Rakuin no Monshou:Volume2 Chapter4

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Chapter 4: Sword Festival

Part 1

On this day, Zaat Quark was swamped with visitors.

In the morning was Simon Rodloom. As soon as he saw Zaat’s face, he asked,

“Have you become thinner?”

Zaat bitterly smiled and shook his head.

“No matter what the situation, the amount I eat and drink will not change. It’s my one redeeming feature. Well, who knows what might happen in a week though.”

“Milord has been reprieved of your house arrest. Now you can eat and drink to your heart’s content.”

“Reprieved?”

The casual manner Simon mentioned this in left Zaat flabbergasted. Simon pointed out towards the window, and sure enough, the guards surrounding the residential hall were pulling back.

This morning, Simon presented himself before the emperor, and by some stroke of luck, the two of them were able to talk alone about the festival. They spent some time discussing about Garbera, Ende’s movements, and also how starting with their longtime enemy, the Bozgan House from the west, new activities have come about in a group of Tauran fortress cities after which, Simon seemingly by chance brought up Zaat’s name. And the emperor, as if he had completely forgotten it up until now, laughed it off.

“After that, the house arrest was immediately called off. His majesty was flaring up at the time, but I myself did not take it to heart. That is why I was free of ease. His majesty has not bestowed any punishment or of the sorts. From here on forth as well, if you were even to show your undying loyalty for Mephius—“

“For Mephius”

Zaat said sullenly. He was ready to make his grave in Mephius. However…..

Whether or not he had understood the implied meaning, Simon kept silent. Zaat brought up the issue of Kaiser Islan. His execution would be held tomorrow. Even Simon could not overturn this. Zaat and Kaiser both had objected the emperor’s decisions, but the emperor’s sentiments towards their punishments differed greatly.

“Like this, he is no different from a sword-slave. At the whim of the audience’s favour, he may be commanded to die or allowed to live. Everyone save the imperials are no more than the emperor’s slaves.” Zaat said, staring down fixedly. “I, of course, love Mephius. I am quite fond of the simple nature of our people, and the militaristic trait that they, at times, possess. There is nothing in our country that can outmatch our strong and fierce troops. The ether has been exhausted, and when the time airship weaponry and that contemptible magic vanish from this world, the one reigning supreme in the world can be no other than Mephius. But with the way Mephius is—with our current emperor…”

“Stop, Zaat. You don’t know where his ears lie.”

“Lord Simon, do even you not hold him in contempt? The emperor is attempting to revive the Ryuujin Faith a second time! Most likely, it is only for the express purpose to reign as the absolute sovereign. He would just as well brand all those who voice their objection against him as rebels. Yes, just as Yashu Bozgan once began his reign of terror in the name of the Dragon God.”

The matter relating to the Ryuujin Faith was already spreading far and wide as a rumour. Of how on the eve of the festival, the summoned elders were newly set to take part in the holdings of the ritual en masse within the sanctuary of the Dragon God Shrine. And also of how Kaiser, who had opposed him would be executed under the label as the first and foremost rebel.

“The peace with Garbera is also the same. He may have lent an ear to his retainers and received their words, however that is for but a brief interim. Surely, a person of your caliber should be able to understand it. His majesty has been frequently meeting with a messenger from Ende one right after the next. The contents of it can be easily guessed—. When morrow comes, I would not be surprised were Princess Vileena to be chased out the country, and in her stead the marriage will take place with the grand princess of Ende.”

“That’s...”

Anxiety drifted into Simon’s eyes. This too, was a definitive fact. Emperor Guhl was not one to obsess over a single country such as Garbera. In vying for control of the centre of the continent, including Ende, balance in the relations between the three countries was essential. Guhl wanted to be the one pulling the strings of the remaining two countries.

The subjugation of Ryucown had served to strengthen the alliance with Garbera, but because of that, Ende could no longer afford to ignore Mephius. There were even talks Ende had proposed a beneficial alliance to Mephius; all according to Guhl’s favour.

“However, if that were to happen we would lose the trust of other countries and Mephius’ reputation would hit the pits. The way his majesty now wields his power as he pleases, sooner or later Mephius will observe the hardships of decline.” At this time, Zaat’s eyes glimmered with light. “There are a great number of people unpleased with the emperor. If Lord Simon was to stand centre amongst them, nobles garnering high popularity and the great majority will give up their name to the cause. The few lords that there are have gathered in Solon. There is no better time than now during the festival.”

“Zaat. I’ll pretend I did not hear this. I will now take my leave.” Simon kicked himself up from his seat. “It is precisely because we think of the future that we must be of one mind. The matter with Kaiser is most regrettable, but I have no intention of allowing the same thing to be repeated..”

“All the more reason Lord Simon!”

“I can see you are more than ready to lay down your life. However, that would lead to a complete upheaval of the law. If you were to attempt to carry out your plans in a fit of impatience, unnecessary blood will be shed. The people will also get dragged into it, and this would provide a chance for other countries to strike. That’s the one thing we must avoid. I’m sure you understand that, Zaat.“

Simon placed his hands on Zaat’s shoulders, and then left the waiting room.

That was the morning meet.

The afternoon meeting was with Oubary Bilan. Though their standings had led them to meet in person countless times until now, they had directly spoken with one another even more recently.

Oubary did not stay for long. They exchanged some idle chatter and played only a single bout of a recreational board game, when he immediately stood up. And as if making use of that chance, he handed a certain letter over to Zaat.

“I would like you to leave the board as is.” Oubary laughed aloud, as he pointed towards the game board at the juncture of his departure. “Let us continue some other time say, when we will be exchanging a celebratory toast.”

After Oubary left, Zaat had a light meal, then retreated to his study.

“Those insolent Garberans.” He scanned the letter tens of dozens of times and finally let go of it, spreading it out on top of his desk. “...They plan to use me?”

Noue Salzantes’ signature was signed on it. Up until now quite a few letters from Noue had been delivered, but the contents of the letter this time coming was far more direct. Though that being the case, the contents could hardly be praised as heroic. He had no doubt kindled the flames of revolution and was sure to expect flattery towards his end, but instead what he got was practically a complaint.

Ever since the wedding between Prince Gil and Princess Vileena had been decided, relations between Garbera and Ende approached a state of tension. It had originally been unofficially planned for her to marry into Ende. However, Garbera decided not to place all of its trust in Ende and prioritizing the interests of its own country above all else, chosen to ally with Mephius. In order to save face, Ende showed no hesitation in making full use of its diplomatic resources. Ende eased tariffs on imported goods such as silk and spices, and Garbera’s second prince and head of the Lion Order, Zeno Owell, appeared before the archduke whereby they exchanged undying oaths of friendship.

However—the archduke, Malchior L. Dorhia’s body neared its end.

Through its diplomatic sources and secret intelligence network, Mephius had more or less grasped the gist of it. Malchior was a man in his fifties, but his physical condition was quickly taking a turn for the worse. There were even rumours he had been poisoned to death, though he did appear in public before the citizens a mere two times in the most recent year. Most likely, he did not have long, or so a great many people saw it, in spite of Ende’s ongoing domestic and foreign activities.

The archduke fathered two sons. The eldest was Prince Jeremy, and next in line was Prince Eric. Jeremy, though prudent, held little militaristic capabilities, and Eric profused in the arts of war, though came short in terms of prudence, the report had stated. And between them, the burly Eric seemed to desire war with Garbera, as was written in the letter.

Eric was originally the first pick to be Vileena’s groom. That being the case, the alliance was scrapped and he, taking it in insult, joined hands with some of the vassals with intentions of declaring a proclamation of war against Garbera.

It stands to reason the one succeeding the position of archduke will be Jeremy. So he has anticipated forthcomings with this in mind, has he?

He was making a show of his power and actions so that he could gain the favour of the people and appear to them the more suitable candidate. Although the current archduke hoped to continue friendly relations with Garbera, it would seem it was only a matter of time until his demise, and when Ende would ready its troops.

And as such, Garbera’s last ray of hope lie in its alliance with Mephius. However—

That cursed Noue. I cannot stomach that man.

Zaat had mentioned before that a couple of days ago, Guhl Mephius secretly met with a messenger from Ende. It was held in absolute secrecy, but Noue had in some way, through his informational network, grasped the contents of that meeting.

Come wartime, Noue was unnerved as to just what extent of reinforcements Guhl Mephius would dispatch to Garbera. That, and the matter of Ryucown’s attempted assassination of the royal family could also well possibly be brought up and Vileena be made to return to her country.

This led Noue to keep his eye on Zaat. As the valiant man who had so righteously defended the alliance with Garbera, he would spare no second thought at coming to his aid—or so was written in the letter . Garbera’s aim was to currently bring about political instability in Mephius. Even though it was surely beyond Zaat’s power to do so, a temporary state of confusion would, at present, relieve them of their fears of getting stabbed from behind.

“However,” Zaat let out a low growl. Put in other words, precisely because Garbera and Ende were currently in a state of tension, it was a good opportunity to bring about reform to Mephius. Even with a temporary state of disorder, there was little concern that the other countries would intervene.

Half of the day had passed since the order for Zaat’s house arrest had been dissolved, and briefly after he arranged a point of contact, he set out. Waiting in the horse wagon Zaat Quark faced were the group of soldiers under his command—leaders of the Blue Archery Division. Each and every one of them were people he placed his trust in. Since shortly before, he had relayed the signal that pressed them to ready themselves. Through the house arrest on this occasion, they understood that ‘that time’ drew near.

Zaat turned back at his own mansion fading out of sight. There he saw a sea of flames. He blinked his eyes several times in surprise. The rows of flames disappeared. It was an illusion.

The following day, right before noon, Simon Rodloom had unexpectedly met face-to-face with Noue Salzantes at the Solon grand stadium.

Last night, immediately after Noue sent off the wooed noblewomen by horse carriage, Simon scheduled to visit Kaiser, who had been transferred to the underground cellar of the stadium.

After exchanging greetings,

“I make my way here every day,” Noue said with a smile. “I am completely fascinated with the gladiator games. The one in the most recent year was by all means a sight to see”

“Let us cordially welcome it.”

After two or three short discussions, Simon made his leave. Noue stared fixedly at the departing man.

That man is the most prominent amongst the Mephian leaders. It’d good to have him as an ally, but it would be far easier to predict his movements as the small accessory similarly to how Zaat Quark is.

It was the same with Oubary Bilac. As the peace talks progressed, Noue had sent a written letter to the general. He had heard Oubary was of the faction opposed against peaceful negotiations and appeared to have been won over to the cause, all in a ploy to have him as another pawn under his control. Noue had investigated Oubary’s character beforehand. Oubary possessed the fortitude of a soldier, and while he did have his share of achievements, wasn’t the brightest of men. His way of handling things enlisted dissatisfaction and complaints, and were reflective of his own habits. He was the type of man most easy to control.

Noue repeatedly sent letters to Oubary, making him more than well aware of how highly Garbera regarded him. And in doing so, led Oubary to become all the more indignant of the unfair position he had found himself forced into in Mephius. Then Oubary remembered of how Garbera valued his true merits.

Soon enough, he sent back a letter of his own. The piece of information that the man known as Zaat Quark was also the head of the anti-imperial faction was also received from Oubary.

I can use this.

Thinking this, Noue soon engaged Zaat by means of correspondence. Noue observed that he too, possessed an easily manipulatable personality. Zaat was a big-headed man, and like Oubary, boasted in pride.

Mephius is one big dragon. It’s body, or rather, it’s long lived years has swollen its pride, so much that it thinks its body larger than it truly is, thus giving me the chance to drive a wedge in. The standstill will, in the not too distant future, be dominated by us through the preparations I have set into motion.

Discontent amongst the Mephian nobles towards the emperor was smouldering. That too was, of course, also looked into. That was why he hatched a plan to throw but a single fuel in there, but then the matter with Kaiser and Zaat occurred, and things suddenly began to advance in his favour. All of this was not Noue’s doing, but rather, as a result of the emperor, Guhl Mephius’ conduct.

Mephius is walking the road towards its own ruin.

Mephius would, according to his plan, exhaust its good fortune. Now he could devote himself towards the country of Ende. Noue did not hope for Mephius’ destruction, nor did he wish for it to be assimilated by another country. Who knows how much money and time it would take for that to happen. What Noue hung uneasy over was the existence of Ende’s ally, the powerful eastern country of Arion. Arion’s longstanding campaign in the east was said to be approaching its end. Were the country of Garbera to engage this country from afar in a single battle, it would not stand the slightest of chances. For this express purpose, Mephius mustn’t be allowed to continue this troubling alliance.

Noue aimed to temporarily bring about disorder in Mephius and strike the emperor in the eye. He would back up either Zaat or the imperialists, according to whichever side offered the biggest advantages. Then he would have Oubary leading the backing, as the general completely immersed himself into the role of a ‘patriotic hero’. If it was this man, the domestic situation being played out in Mephius could be read and Noue could easily plan out a means resulting in success. And above all, Mephius would without a doubt reform its alliance with Garbera this time coming.

Ever since he had enlisted the aid of Oubary within Mephius, the thought of Princess Vileena entering his plans never once surfaced.

That person is far too straightforward.

She made a fitting leader, but she also would not think to approve of such a plan. Her notion of royal blood differed from that of Ryucown. On the contrary,

If the spilt royal blood were to end up protecting Garbera...

A level-headed glimmer dwelt within both his eyes, underneath that indifferent, smiling guise.

As Noue thought over his strategy, Simon met with Kaiser in the dungeon. Though it could be called a meeting, it was one across the prison bars where but only a mere five minutes worth of conversation was allowed.

As such, Simon left out the extended greetings.

“How is your family?”

I have told them not to come. Kaiser turned pale and then smiled. “Milord, what of the future of the Kaiser House?”

“I know. Leave it to me.”

“Thank you.”

Kaiser remained an upright man ‘til the very end. To Simon, he was a sincere man with little to no taste. However, he felt it truly representative of this one man, that he remained since and all too serious for his own good, to the very end.

“What of his majesty?” he said, as he gazed at the ceiling from below. “Has he had a change of heart?”

“—“

“I do not hold a grudge against him. Just that, at the time the previous empress, Lana-sama was alive, granted he still held a fiery temper, but no matter who the person, so long as he held the strength his majesty desired, it would become a cause for celebration. But now, his majesty cannot even trust himself. In this one month, I have wept, clamoured, and cried out some thousand complaints across the empty skies, but right now, it will not serve to sadden his majesty.”

It was sometimes murmured even within the palace walls. At the time Lana was around, the emperor would often listen carefully to his vassals. That was no doubt thanks to Lana’s generous personality. The one check in place was lost, and the emperor began to act as he pleased.

That is surely the case.

Simon and Kaiser had acted as a support for the emperor since he was young. They were well familiar with the previous empress Lana and the relationship he held with her while they were married.

The emperor trusted many to a problematic extent, but by nature held a reserved personality.

Currently, he was remarried to Melissa and appeared to be brimming with the energy of a youth and his relation with her certainly seemed just as well as with his former wife, but Simon saw this as no more than an appearance.

Is it not as if he has lost his support?

Simon did not feel that the emperor was determined to shut himself in. He could no longer recognize his longtime friend Simon within the depths of his heart, nor did he also offer any love to his own son, Gil Mephius.

—Afterwards, Simon and Kaiser engaged in a lighthearted chat. Simon never said the words, ‘I’m sorry.’ That was the one thing he knew he mustn’t say. “This will not happen a second time,” he said to Kaiser with conviction. Simon was most angry with himself for being unable to stop Kaiser’s procession.

And after Simon made his leave, he, for some strange reason, recalled the memories of a man, whose name was but all he had heard, and whose very being he knew nothing about. This man, with whom he felt a bond of sorts.

The man named Ryucown.

He had the makings of a fool.

The rebellion stirred up by Ryucown was one with no future. It was one unaware of the times, or possibly one that attempted to shun away from the times. It was the act of a fool. It was tomfoolery that caused blood to be shed; tomfoolery that invited in disorder.

However... Simon thought. Wasn’t that something he himself was fully aware of? He acted putting his life on the line knowing that there was no precedence and knowing that it was doomed to fail. All the washed blood, the spilt blood, towards his own country of Garbera mustn’t be let to go to waste.

That was Ryucown’s cry.

That was how Simon felt it.

Part 2

Lined up on the table were freshly looking fruits and drinks. There was a plentiful selection of meat, as if indicative to that of a glutton, more than likely to make one sick following their morning bout.

Orba barely delved into his meal, having only eaten one or two mouthfuls of bread. Though that is to say, this was not a problem of time or his health.

It was because he was joined with the emperor for his morning meal. Guhl, Melissa, Ineli, and the younger sister, Flora, and not limited to the members of the imperial family, included Simon Rodloom, the general, Odyne Lorgo, and one of the senior statesmen, Klein Isphan in this breakfast meet.

The emperor had, in this manner, received those who sought his audience and invited them to join him for his morning meal, where he would listen to their concerns. Though it could be considered a vain act, it was a custom that had not changed since long past, and was still enacted to this day.

It was Orba’s first time participating in such a gathering. Until now, one reason or another was used to excuse himself from attending. Fedom wanted to avoid having the person acting as Gil from meeting with his own family and those immediate relatives who knew him well. But this time was different. He had kept Fedom out of the knowing. Had Fedom known, he would have used all means to obstruct him, and even force his way into Orba’s company.

Well then.

Orba was nervous, but he had awaited this chance; the talking had reached a point of complete silence. Orba took a deep breath, and then opened his mouth.

“Father.”

Everyone looked on at Orba in light surprise. The former prince Gil might have refrained from speaking himself out. The emperor’s eyes also widened as he faced Orba.

“What is it?”

“I would like to make a request.”

“Oh? Could it be that you want something? A horse maybe? Or could it be you want the position of general? If it’s the crown you desire, it’s still too early for you.”

The emperor said to his good humor. He had most likely anticipated a rather ‘lively’ response, but Orba did not notice it.

“It is a matter relating to the gladiatorial games.”

“Speak.”

The emperor’s mood did a complete turnaround, as he spoke in ill humor. Since morning, he had been downing the fruit wine as if it were water. It wasn’t as if Orba had not noticed the change in ambience, but for now, he assertively voiced his thoughts.

“I would like you to allow a member of the Imperial Guards, the one who defeated Ryucown, to participate in the gladiator games held during the festival.”

The unexpected proposal had, provoked murmurs of interest from everyone, with the exemption of the emperor. Oubary and the rest shone with anticipation. The emperor snorted at Orba.

“Again, why now of all times?”

“I have heard of how many hope for Orba to participate. The people too will certainly be joyed.”

“What do you think you’re saying?” The emperor stared directly at Orba. “The people will be joyed? You’re just using that as a pretense. You hope for your Imperial Guard to win so that you will have more to brag about, do you not? Rather, why don’t you yourself participate? It’s not as if no member of the imperial family ever participated before.”

“Y-You must be joking.”

Orba quickly lowered his head, fearful the emperor might have seen through him as the gladiator he was. Orba was sure this was the reason, but the emperor, Guhl Mephius’ gaze held a pressure on a scale of a different dimension compared to those he had faced until now.

“Hmph,” the emperor snorted. “Well, it might not hurt to let things go as you want it. At the very least, I want to see a victory deserving of a hero.”

“P-Please wait, Your Imperial Majesty!”

The one who had cut in was Simon Rodloom. A strained mood hung in the air. Naturally, it was because everyone present was well aware of the incident that occurred in the Dragon God’s Shrine.

“If I may have a word, I implore you to not just let things run its course, but take a deeper look at the implications of an Imperial Guard participating in the games. Yes, gladiators may not wholly be slaves, but to allow a member of his royal highness’ Imperial Guard to be killed in front of the audience’s eyes will somewhat damage our authority.”

“Ho.”

“Your majesty previously mentioned that in the history of Mephius, it was not without incident that a member of the imperial family participated in a gladiatorial match, but the circumstances of the era were far too different and should not be used as a comparison.”

“Ho,” the emperor said once more. He placed his chin against his arm that rested against the armchair and glared at Simon through his heavy-lidded eyes. At that time, Klein Isphan spoke up.

“Is it not all right? We of Mephius are a country of swords and dragons. Birthplace and lineage have no dealings in it. It is in our blood for us to compete.”

“However—“

“And also, the Imperial Guard who defeated Ryucown is most certainly a hero. However, he was also originally a sword slave, and as such the people too will hesitate in openly praising him. If I may venture, have the lords and each and every one of the generals not likewise, been at a loss over whether or not it be appropriate to invite him to tonight’s evening party? It stands to reason that there is meaning in that Imperial Guard competing for Clovis’ seat.”

“Well put.”

The emperor nodded his head approvingly, as Klein humbled himself. Klein excelled in plays such as these. He read the emperor’s feelings, and even if the emperor held any sentiments, he warped the reasoning behind it, making it seemingly appear even more sound when he spoke it.

“Those who have obtained the same honour that Clovis and his aide Felipe have, supposing that they were born a slave, competed every year for that title. They are by all means a hero. Amongst them are also those who have risen to become a general. —This instance dates back no more than thirty years ago in our history, does it not, Simon?”

“—Yes.”

Every year, the gladiator tournament held during the festival awarded the winning two gladiators, who won through all others, as heroes. Those heroes would, on the final day, lead two hundred remaining slaves and fight against the dragons as part of the main event. Even in Mephius’ history, the hero Clovis and his aide Felipe and all those who followed after them were, regardless of their origin, officially enlisted into the Mephian forces.

“Up to the remaining last, they have all been heroes that do not shame their title. Those who lose are only able to amount to that much, but those fallen warriors who compete for the seat of Clovis are great men who sacrifice themselves for Mephius’ tradition. There will be no damage to our authority or anything of the like.”

“Ohh.”

“I see. That certainly holds true.”

The other nobles showered him with praise, after which Simon offered no further protest. Like this, they had left the prince in question out of their conversation. During this time,

“So you listened to my request, brother.”

Ineli stealthily sneaked out with a smile that spread across her whole face.

Orba did not respond to her with even a simple “ahh,” or “yea.” Even so, she didn’t mind. She was already lost in her own thoughts.

“Were he to say, win as the champion, I must by all means be the one to hand him the golden helmet that is proof of Clovis. At that time, I will announce him as the hero who had also saved the imperial princess, Ineli, from the claws of a dragon.”

Orba being Orba was at present, preparing for the next phase of his plans in his head, unaware that Ineli talked like a young girl who spoke of her dream, and that nested within were malicious sentiments that sought to come into possession of the masked gladiator, Orba.

Rumours of Orba’s participation spread throughout the palace in no time at all. Though he may have been a former gladiator, it was an unprecedented situation where a member of the imperial guards participated in the games. People’s responses naturally went both ways.

“The prince has been living up to our expectations.”

And there being those wholeheartedly approved of it,

“Is the prince not only pulling along at the glory of his first campaign?”

There were also those who criticized him behind his back.

One person, Fedom Aulin, upon chancing on these rumours exploded into a fit of rage. For him, the puppet, Orba, whom he had gone through great lengths to put in place was nonsensically braving away at danger that risked his life under his very nose. However, Orba had directly appealed to the emperor and it was already something Fedom could no longer overturn.

“Only two or three battles to go.”

Orba, concealing his plans of trapping Noue and Oubary, spoke in a carefree tone.

“Now this is odd. Right now, in this whole world, you’d think the one worrying most for my life would be you.”

“Shut your mouth.” Fedom’s expression stammered, as if he were seriously about to faint. "Listen well. You mustn’t die. That much is obvious, but you also mustn’t get hurt. It will be suspicious when you return as the prince. Argh, curses!! You better prepare yourself. Once the festival is over, I’ll tie you up in chains like when you were a slave!”

And that rumour had, of course, also reached Vileena Owell’s ears. As soon as she heard this, she shook off Theresia’s restraint and headed towards the prince.

In preparation for tomorrow’s stage appearance, Orba left his room and first headed over to the stadium grounds.

His decision to take part in the games was obviously not because the people had wished it. He thought to obtain a means of contacting Pashir through this tournament. Oubary had clearly mentioned this sword slave’s name. There was no doubt Pashir played a significant role in his plans. Orba would rile up his plans in every way possible.

“Oh?”

Just then, he happened Vileena, who ran his way. Her lips were closed shut and her eyes twisted upwards. Last night, when she had come to visit him, it remained well hidden. Her aggressive manner resurfaced now once again. And it was ever more so direct. It was as if he were guilty of having done something that earned her disfavour.

“Why?”

Vileena began her accusing inquiry.

“Why, being?”

“Orba. Why did you make him participate in the games?”

“Oh. Does he have something to do with the princess?”

“He—“

Vileena, who had flown into a rage, found herself tongue-tied. Orba began to walk past her a second time. He would never have thought the princess’ business was about himself. Now knowing this, he no longer felt like arguing with her.

“He is a dear friend.”

As those words tore at him from behind, his feet suddenly came to a halt.

The fourteen year old princess strengthened her gaze.

“...That is why this is a matter not unrelated to me. Up until now, he has lived through difficult battles, overcome them, and he has finally been freed from those bonds and become a free man. You are forcing him to fight just as he was made to when he was a slave. And to what ends?”

“Garbera’s princess does not know of it. You view the gladiator games as a living hell, but it’s Mephius’ top entertainment. That even a single more well-known gladiator participates will liven the mood of the festival.”

“Are you not selling yourself to the festival’s mood so that you will receive everyone’s attention? Even if you have to sacrifice Orba’s life to do it!”

“He won’t die,” Orba said with a brooding face.

The foreign princess’ cheeks flushed and she drew even closer to him. Her face was reminiscent of one other time. It completely matched the one she made when she squared off against the prince as they proceeded for Zaim Fortress for not making a single move.

“Why do you say so?”

“That’s...because he’s Orba. He’s never lost once. As his dear friend, you should trust in his abilities.”

“That is not what I am saying!”

“This is also what Orba wants. Do not speak any further on this, princess.”

No matter how he tried to suppress it, his irritation continued to build up. The way he spoke of himself appeared the way those very Mephian nobles would.

“Still, to think you were his friend,” Orba ridiculed. "What do you know about him? Do you know how many lives he’s taken? Someone like you and those ‘prided’ nobles and knights find battles to be grave, honourable, and meaningful. He fights not for any of these reasons, but only so that he can survive. He stains himself with flesh and blood only so that he can survive."

“That is because you Mephian nobles...”

“Shut up!!”

Having exceeded his emotional threshold, Orba angrily ran rampant with his words.

“Do not call yourself Orba’s friend a second time. Do not speak to him. Don’t act as if you know everything just because you are royalty.”

Vileena instantly became enraged. However, contrary to her appearance, she stood stock still and did not utter a single word.

Orba, lost in his emotions and not knowing what to do with them, quickly left the scene.

Who am I?

His heavy footsteps, together with the throbbing of his heart gnawed away at him as Orba questioned his own sense of self.

As a gladiator, I am someone who cannot become something like the princess’ friend.

As a slave, I cannot stand when the princess speaks as if she is aware of the circumstances of a slave.

As the prince, I don’t mind even if Orba has to be sacrificed to accomplish my goals.

Who...am I?

As he repeatedly questioned himself, he quickly lost all awareness of the outside world.

This day, Orba headed towards the stadium and arrived shortly before the sun set. The games for the day had already come to a close, and there were no traces of people on the stadium seats.

The sword slaves emerged little by little onto the stadium grounds. Of the gladiators participating in the tournament, all those that held the status of slave were held in a stadium-equipped detention camp. There, they passed the day working their bodies on the vast stadium grounds in preparation for their match the following day.

The guards kept an eye on the centre, where the gladiators freely swung their swords, practiced their footwork, and engaged in one-on-one mock battles.

Then the masked gladiator suddenly appeared. Naturally, stares were thrown at him from all over. They likely had heard stories of him to some extent, and although they did not seem surprised, they neither called out to him nor approached him. Instead, a stadium attendant came up to him.

“I have heard stories of you. However, there is no need for you to go out of your way to stay here. On the day of your battle, we will send over a guide to pick you up.”

“It’s an atmosphere I haven’t experienced in a while. I’d like to get used to it.”

The attendant gave out a baffled response, and then brought out a sword for him. Orba began his stretches and then proceeded to swing his sword. And still all the same, the slaves only watched. It could also be said that they were unable to disregard him and clear away their interest in him.

He pretended to do his exercise routine, directing his gaze at the slaves countless times, but never eyed Pashir amongst them.

The gladiator games had two days remaining. If Pashir was taking part in Noue’s plans, regardless of what his role was, he would likely make his move within these two days. He held the status of a slave, and could not freely move as he pleased. This meant Noue’s plans would progress within the detention camp.

Until then, he had to get closer to Pashir and grasp the entirety of his plans.

Orba felt impatient, but also firmly thought to himself, I can’t rush things.

What lay at stake was Mephius’ future, in other words, the hope he had at long last attained: the position of Prince Gil.

—The princess’ life, huh

He twisted his body around and stepped one foot out, as he slashed the sword down diagonally.

Part 3

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