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Volume 6, Chapter 4: Surūr’s Unit

Part 1

Before their departure to the front, the soldiers received a warm reception everywhere they went within the town. All of them were righteous martyrs about to embark on a holy crusade against Garda. With that, the west’s cooperation gained strength. Even those who had been enemies just yesterday stood shoulder to shoulder and sang the same songs, drinking the same wine together.

It had to be said however that this sense of solidarity was peculiar to the Zerdians and that Orba and the others, having come from Mephius, naturally didn’t receive the same warm welcome.

But instead, the night before leaving for the front, they were once more invited to Kay’s store. There was nothing luxurious but it was a feast prepared from the heart. Incidentally, Talcott wasn’t present. He had already found a new woman and was busy drawing her portrait and writing poetry.

Niels was also working at the eatery. He acted just as before, as though nothing had happened.

“But it would be great if this time could put an end to the fighting,” Kay, a better drinker than men, muttered with red cheeks. After that, her eyes suddenly started shining. “Say, this is just my idea but, once this fight is over, won’t Tauran definitely be more peaceful than in the past?”

“Oh, why’s that?” Gilliam asked.

“Well, so many countries are joining hands to beat back Garda. Won’t the higher-ups all realise how stupid it is to always be fighting among fellow Zerdians?”

“If that happens, we’ll be out of work. And after we got to the point of being mercenaries and thanks to Mr. Captain, the pay’s good.”

“It’s fine, isn’t it, you can think about it after it’s all over. You’re a strong guy, so you’ll have plenty of work. And that ladies’ man there looks like he’d have no trouble conning money out of lots of women.”

“W-Who would!?”

Shique nearly spat out his drink. When it came to romantic relationships, he was to the core a self-confessed misogynist, but on the other hand he commonly talked with women like Kay and he had been worried about her when Helio fell.

“As for the masked captain... Er...”

As Kay faltered, Gilliam laughed heartily.

“Ha ha ha. This guy isn’t good with anything except swords. He isn’t suited for any kind of job. Just imagine him listening to a boss and baking bread. Ah, no good, I’m laughing so much my stomach’s gonna burst.”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t work. Kind of like you when you’re whispering sweet words to women.”

“Whaat!”

As usual, Orba and Gilliam did not make good drinking partners. And even less so as Talcott wasn’t around today.

“Yes, yes,” Kay waded in to stop the two in his stead. “When it comes to you, I can’t tell whether you get on well or badly. Even if every single country stops fighting, you’ll definitely always be quarrelling. Without just going your separate ways.”

Kay certainly didn’t think that everything would be over just like that. Undoubtedly, the western countries were currently united to face a common threat, but this was no miraculous occurrence and the same thing had happened a little over a decade ago. At the time, when none other than Mephius had invaded from the east, Kay had lost her father to the fighting.

The various countries of Tauran had banded together for a while to keep Mephius’ aggression in check, but one only had to look at the current state of affairs to understand what had happened afterwards. By the very next month, the Zerdians who had raised cries of victory together and shared celebratory drinks in triumph had started getting into skirmishes with their neighbouring states.

Kay knew that Zerdian temperament all too well. But it was a woman’s role to see the men off to the battlefield and to prepare banquets with as cheerful a feel as possible.

And yet...

And yet this time, although Kay didn’t know if the atmosphere she sensed was the same throughout the west, the mood in Tauran was certainly different from what it had been during the war with Mephius. A major reason for that was probably that this wasn’t an outside aggression but something that presented the aspect of a civil war in which all Zerdians were caught up.

It couldn’t be denied that this was the result of the cycle that they themselves had repeated.

Will the fighting still not end?

It wasn’t only one woman managing a restaurant who held that thought, but also the soldiers who went out on a spree with their mates before leaving for the front in an attempt to forget their dread of the battlefield, the lovers who gazed up at the night sky even as the soldiers’ carousing reached their ears, the women who went to the temples of the Dragon Gods faith to buy protective charms for their husbands and sons, and even the officers who were even now working out strategies probably felt the same.

With his characteristically keen senses, Orba could feel the change carried on the western wind.

But for that... There was still something missing in Tauran. When he came to a conclusion about what it was that was missing, Orba felt as though he had betrayed his own self. So he didn’t say a word and he didn’t push forward with any concrete plans.

The soldiers led by Surūr Wyerim left Helio about two weeks after Orba was incorporated amongst them. After stopping for a while in Cherik and taking in the remaining soldiers to reach the allocated one thousand, they set their sights on Kadyne.

For two days, they marched and camped before finally arriving at the relay-station town that was located a little over a third of the way to Kadyne. An advance party had already surveyed the area.

Orba had heard about it before. That in order not to impede trade throughout the west, even for those who spent all of their time at war, it was practically a rule to safeguard the coming and going of travellers and merchant caravans along the highways from the Zer Tauran era. This relay-station town too seemed to have formerly prospered thanks to the incessant traffic of goods and people that were linked to trade with the coastal countries, as well as to Cherik exporting produce grown near Lake Soma to allied countries.

The “formerly” was because since Garda’s army had seized control of almost all of northern Tauran, trade had all but ceased to be carried out. Now all that could be seen were a few prostitutes and peddlers who followed after the soldiers.

The thousand soldiers occupied the town’s inns, the Dragon Gods temple and even the empty houses of the townspeople.

As they still had a long way to go, Surūr would normally have allowed the soldiers some degree of freedom, but the battle was close at hand. Night had fallen when the various unit commanders were summoned to the temple-turned-headquarters. It was larger than the temples of the Dragon Gods faith found in Taúlia and in Helio, and it was filled to the brim with icons such as weren’t seen in Helio. It seemed that worshippers had been allowed to come and go as they pleased. Advance parties had been sent out in every direction and the information from the scouts was then collected together.

“It appears that the second company’s vanguard unit was fired upon at a village near the highway.”

“The enemy seems to have soldiers lying in ambush in the villages.”

“Should we crush them systematically?”

Orba was at the edge of the temple and was looking around him thinking that it gave a strange impression how even if the location changed, the buildings of the Dragon Gods faith didn’t change.

Information was of course pivotal in war. Straining his ears hard, he stored ever detail in his chest.

There was a fortress at the border with Kadyne and eight hundred soldiers were said to be defending it. They exceeded them in numbers but if the Kadyne side gave their utmost in defence, two hundred soldiers couldn’t be considered much of a difference. For the offence, having twice the enemy’s numbers was desirable. The Eimen capture force should soon be leaving from Helio. One opinion held that as the distance between them was not yet so great, they should send a messenger on horseback to ask for reinforcements, but Surūr immediately rejected that proposal.

Oh?

Beneath his mask, Orba raised his eyebrows slightly. He glanced quickly at Surūr’s face. Then he turned his eyes to the company commander standing next to him, Bisham. He too was a Helian soldier. With his gentle personality and appearance, he had an atmosphere like that of a father who would make a good playmate for the neighbouring street kids.

“Orba-dono,” he called out after making an eye signal to Orba. “What is your opinion?”

It was probably just out of consideration for Orba who had enlisted with Lasvius’ endorsement. Bisham didn’t have any kind of hidden agenda but the eyes of every one of the Zerdians seated there turned to look at Orba.

Right then.

While keeping Surūr’s face at the edge of his field of vision, Orba deliberately stood up as though to say that he had indeed been waiting to make a statement during the meeting. The area fell silent.

“It’s one thing if we are only going to keep Kadyne in check, but if we intend to take it then I wonder if reinforcements aren’t necessary. If we take Kadyne, with Fugrum and Lakekish in check further north, we should be able to encircle Zer Illias.”

“The soldiers we have now are enough,” Surūr shook his head. A faint smile appeared on his lips. “Even in this town, there have been no less than a hundred youths and mercenaries who have begged to join us. As we liberate villages from here on, I imagine that our numbers will increase more and more. Even if they quarrel, Zerdians band together when the west is in danger. No doubt foreigners can’t understand the western temperament.”

Several of the people at the meeting laughed in agreement. Through his mask, Orba looked briefly at Surūr’s round face. He’s getting impatient, he realised intuitively.

He had gotten quite a bit of information about Surūr Wyerim in Helio. His war record wasn’t bad. Or rather, he was man who was comparable to the dragoon commander Lasvius. Yet despite being that kind of man,

Or better said, because he’s competing with Lasvius,

He was eager to capture Kadyne. Overly so.

After all, to all appearances, the one who bore the sole merit of rescuing Helio from Greygun and Garda’s army was Lasvius. Of course, when Surūr received Lasvius’ call to rise to arms, he had single-handedly stirred up an impressive ruckus in town, but compared to Lasvius, who had defeated Greygun himself, his achievements appeared plain indeed. Needless to say, the one to receive immense support from the people was also Lasvius.

Moreover, during the time when he had lain hidden in the Belgana Summits waiting for his chance, he had safeguarded King Elargon’s orphan son, Rogier Helio. Rogier was still only nine years old but he was the royal family’s legitimate heir.

Surūr must have been feeling completely eclipsed by Lasvius. For that reason, having been appointed as the officer in charge of capturing Kadyne, he was eager to make a name for himself there. If a commander could work zealously in a good direction, the reverse was of course also true. Unfortunately, Surūr’s case was the latter.

“Lasvius said that you had the resourcefulness of a strategist. Where do you expect the enemy to attack from?”

Not only had he tossed his opinion aside, he was testing him. In that way, he was also showing his contempt for Lasvius who had recommended Orba.

Orba turned his eyes to the map on the table. After thinking for a moment, he pointed to a spot and Surūr flashed a broad smile.

“Good. We’ll place the vanguard on lookout there. If the enemy comes, they will immediately inform the main body of troops.”

The fifty-three mercenaries were sent out as scouts.

Orba’s judgement had not erred. Halfway along the route from the relay-station town, there was a mountain pass suitable for the enemy to prepare an ambush and they kept watch over it throughout the night.

But enemy soldiers did not appear. There were a number of people on the road, but they were a group of Zerdians who had come from the west to join Surūr’s unit and as such, they tended rather to validate his confident attitude. In the end, Orba’s unit had no choice but to return empty-handed, to which Surūr simply said “Good work”.

Orba had taken back Helio along with Lasvius and was, so to speak, a minor hero. When the story went around that the commander had taken the foreign hero down a peg, the effect rapidly spread and affected the general atmosphere. Although more than half of Orba’s mercenary unit were Zerdians, they were left isolated within the thousand soldiers.

It was the same even after the fighting started.

Two days later, the troops aiming for Kadyne momentarily veered west off the highway. From there on, the road leading to the border twisted and turned, and was deliberately built so as to be a detour. It was taboo throughout the west to blockade the highways, to attack merchant caravans or to hinder trade. Equally, there was an unwritten law to avoid building forts or castles along the highways. And so, using plausible excuses like “maintaining the trade routes”, the countries changed the layout of the highways to make the roads inconvenient for enemy soldiers on the march.

Two hundred enemy soldiers lay in ambush in a village along that bypass to the west and fighting broke out. Their plan was to attract attention with a highly manoeuvrable cavalry unit, then launch several medium-size dragons to disrupt the troops formation. Surūr however remained calm and, personally leading his soldiers, repelled the attack with almost no losses.

Thereafter, platoon leaders and company commanders were sent out from the relay-station town to crush the hostile forces posted all around. As Surūr’s troops were superior in vigour and in numbers, victory was assured.

“They’re probably sending out soldiers sporadically to dull our steps. But we are used to this kind of warfare.”

In western wars, there were often skirmishes involving several hundred units of soldiers. It was the first time that Surūr led a thousand men but he skilfully pulled together that large army corps.

After each battle, the captains returned to headquarters with war trophies as souvenirs. Some even included guns and cannons snatched from the enemy. Getting drunk on alcohol they had obtained from the villages’ storehouses – who knew whether they had received it or had plundered it – officers and men boasted every night about their own achievements.

Orba’s unit however did not join that circle. It wasn’t that they didn’t take part in the fighting. Far from it: Surūr actively incorporated them in the battle formations. However, they didn’t earn any war trophies. Or better said, they weren’t given a chance to.

“That Surūr really is a sly son of a bitch.”

It was no wonder that Talcott cursed him bitterly. The commanders of each company that Orba’s unit was integrated into must have received orders from Surūr since they rarely stood at the front and they were only put to use protecting bivouacs and acting as the rear guard.

Neither their swords nor their armour had been wetted in enemy blood and all fifty-three of them were uninjured. At headquarters, they felt increasingly humiliated.

“Yeah, I guess this is how whores who have to go on the tout without makeup feel,” Gilliam was also irritated. He was a heavy drinker but, obviously enough, he didn’t want to receive leftovers from the boastful, merry-making Zerdians.

Amongst it all, Orba didn’t display any emotions whatsoever. Instead, he galloped off every time with his subordinates to reconnoitre the villages that were under enemy control. Because it was a drab and dangerous duty that nobody wanted to undertake, he and his unit continued to take the lead in it.

“He’s desperate to curry favour because the other units have gotten all the glory.”

Orba was perfectly aware that that kind of malicious rumour was being whispered.

“That guy, what’s he thinking?” Talcott asked Shique as they were galloping along just as night was about to fall.

“Why?” Shique seemed amused.

“It’s normal that you can’t read his expression since he’s masked, but since he became captain, he’s even more taciturn than before.”

“That’s true. He is like that.”

He received no other answer. Only Shique seemed satisfied while Orba, who was comparing the surrounding topography to the map in his hand, looked into the distance from horseback.

Just as Surūr had said, every time they pushed back Kadyne’s forces, volunteers from the villages flocked to join them. As Surūr’s troops continued their steady advance, the people of Kadyne started to hope that they might claim the city and recover their family members who had been taken hostage by Garda’s army. Although it no doubt gave them mixed feelings that the ones they were fighting were also soldiers from Kadyne.

Having finally subjugated the surroundings, Surūr’s troops moved their headquarters west. Although the new quarters were only slightly smaller than the previous relay station, they were barely able to house the thousand soldiers. The story went that Garda’s forces had also been posted there but, frightened by Surūr’s irresistible advance, they had fled three days earlier.

Instead of gunshots and the roars of dragons, what greeted Surūr’s troops was the people’s enthusiastic welcome. Some were already extolling Surūr as the west’s greatest hero. Delighted by this and in light of their overwhelming victory up to that point, Surūr allowed his men a certain amount of freedom in order to rest from their fatigue.

Surūr himself, his helmet removed, received a warm reception from the town’s leading figures. He was especially pleased when smoked fish was served by fishermen from Kadyne’s lake district. Fish was a rare treasure in Tauran. Wine was also brought out. Surūr emptied his wine cup in great good humour but someone was coming towards him with rough footsteps. They were still wearing a cuirass and had a sword hanging from their waist.

“What is it, you’re being loud.”

“We need to get away from here at once.”

Orba spoke vigorously. Surūr’s eyebrows were as narrow as his eyes and he drew them into a frown.

“What?”

“In terms of defence, there are only the rocky hills to the south, everywhere else is exposed. If the enemy comes, we won’t be able to defend it.”

“A strict watch has been placed.” As there were local dignitaries present, Surūr did not raise his voice angrily but he appeared to be seething. “The enemy’s main force is at the border fortress. They probably intend to ambush us there. They won’t be foolish enough to come here when they are hopelessly outnumbered.”

Surūr spoke triumphantly so as to let those around them hear.

“However...”

“Unlike you, who hasn’t fought once, the soldiers and I need to rest.”

This guy is absolutely desperate for glory – that thought was clearly written on the battalion commander’s face. As though he had been struck with a sudden idea, he said,

“If you’re that scared of an attack, I’m happy to leave the watch to you. Go and stand to attention with a spear all night.”

“I’ll do just that,” Orba turned away, looking furious.

Surūr had meant it as ridicule but Orba took him at his word and went to get involved in organising the watch. Only a hundred soldiers were on shift as lookouts but he increased these to two hundred to the north and fifty each to the east and west.

However, no matter how much he may have had the verbal consent of the battalion commander Surūr, nobody would be willing to take orders from an outsider. The soldiers who had suddenly been assigned to night watch voiced their displeasure and, in the end, more than half of the ones that Orba had newly assigned arbitrarily left their posts and were said to have gone drinking.

Feeling sorry for him, Company Commander Bisham took fifty of his own men and lent them to Orba, but their number was simply insufficient.

“What? Another hundred?”

“Spear-wielding infantrymen would be good. If we don’t gather at least that number, we can’t lead an assault.”

“An assault,” Bisham rubbed his chin a little agitatedly. In this situation, he didn’t know if should yell at the foreign newcomer or laugh him off.

But in the end, he added another hundred. With that, the defence stood at three hundred and fifty men. For some reason, Orba positioned half of them to the north and also had his own unit stand sentry there.

He himself, after making arrangements with Bisham, slipped secretly out of the town. Taking only a few of his men, he headed towards the rocky hills that protected the town to the south. They weren’t particularly tall but the slopes were steep whichever way one went.

Just as the sun was about to set,

“Here,” said Orba.

They were at a flat ledge that projected outwards and which commanded an unbroken view of the town.

The sun soon set and the town was faintly rimmed with the fires lit by the guardsmen. The laughter of soldiers rose incessantly from the town’s streets.

“To the Dragon Gods who rule over the protection of Tauran!”

“To the false Garda’s last moments!”

Each called out as they raised their wine cups together in a toast. Many other soldiers were making pillow talk with prostitutes by describing their own feats in battle.

Midnight was drawing near.

Just as the town was quieting down, the roar of artillery fire resounded. Cannonballs hit the trees, smashing several of them as fires started to spread. The flames were like living creatures as they extended further around them and while the soldiers on guard did their best to fight them back, the sound of cannons thundered again two then three more times.

All at once, the slumbering town was in uproar. There were those who were running around trying to extinguish the flames, those who, without taking their sword or spear, were escaping in a panic, believing that lightning was falling from the sky, and those who, although pulling their horses with their sword in hand, were at a loss not knowing where to go.

Surūr immediately rushed out into the street.

“What were the guards doing?”

“T-The attack seems to be coming from the south. From the rocky hills.”

Before he even had time to answer “What?”, more news came flying.

“It’s Nilgif!”

It took Surūr a long time to realise that the soldier who was shouting was from Orba’s mercenary unit. He simply opened his eyes wide.

“Nilgif is leading dragoons and cavalry, about five hundred are charging this way!”

Part 2

Just as his name of Kadyne’s Blue Dragon indicated, Nilgif wore a helmet shaped like a dragon and donned blue armour. The difference with his brother wasn’t only the colour of his armour but also the fact that the top of his helmet only had a single horn.

He rode his horse at the head of the five hundred soldiers.

Up until then, he had given his companions the order to deliberately scatter during skirmishes. The plan was for them to seem thoroughly routed. They had even made sure to deliberately abandon valuable weapons like guns and cannons so that the enemy would not be able to see through their intentions. There were of course those who were killed in this warfare based on withdrawal. It was an honour for warriors to die in battles in which they had fought to the last, but in these battles they had known from the start that they would be running away.

But even so, they obeyed my orders.

Nilgif was by nature easily moved to tears. Even in the middle of an assault, he was prone to being unable to hold back the emotions that welled up within him.

You won’t have died in vain. Here and now, we will deal a crushing blow to these one thousand soldiers.

Nilgif had two mortars be transported beforehand to the southern hills. Since as expected, the enemy had completely disregarded caution to the south, the first shot was fired as the signal for the assault.

“Riiight. Let’s go!”

Once the soldiers standing guard at the west of the town came into sight, Nilgif raised his rough voice.

Abandoning the lit fires, they were about to swing their long spears from horseback or fix them under their arms.

Just then, the fourth cannon shot rang out.

“Urgh!”

Gravel flew up and hit Nilgif in the face. No, it wasn’t only gravel that flew. With it was the flesh and blood of his companions. As Nilgif halted before it, his now bloodshot eyes stared at the impact point from which white smoke was rising up and where his companions and their horses lay prone. He knew that the bombardment must have come from the rocky hills. He knew it, but –

“Impossible!”

At the same time,

“Right. Let’s go.”

Someone gave the same order as Nilgif had.

It was Orba, who at some point had arrived to defend the west side. Raising his spear high, he took the lead, galloping in the van. Following behind him were the fifty-three from his unit, the hundred and fifty pikemen that Bisham had loaned him and the hundred infantrymen who were originally on sentry duty.

“That bastard saw right through them, huh,” his battle-axe heaved over his shoulder, Gilliam gave a broad grin.

The Zerdians were completely unable to hide their surprise but with the enemy approaching before them, the fact that the commander was a foreigner was no longer important. Spears in hand, they drew up to the mounted enemy unit.

Gunshots sounded once again. The fight had become a mêlée but those who had brought the guns to the hills and those who had been targeted had had their allies and enemies completely switched around.

If I were the enemy, I would definitely attack from the south. It was because he thought so that Orba went to reconnoitre the hills. And there, as expected, he found a suitable ledge.

Here? Orba found traces of several humans having been there recently. There was no mistaking that the soldiers of Kadyne had checked the place out before leaving the relay-station town. Realising that they intended to bring out mortars, Orba had left a few men there. All of them were outstanding swordsmen. Shique was among them. And naturally, he also left soldiers who were experienced at bombardment.

Orba’s plan proved to be right on the mark. In the dead of night, several dozen soldiers brought dismantled mortars. After waiting for them to assemble them, Shique and the other swordsmen leapt out. The enemy didn’t even have time to brace themselves against the swords before being cut down in one fell swoop.

“First fire at the outskirts of the town,” Orba had ordered them in advance. One reason was as a signal to lure the enemy troops, the other reason was to wake up their allies who were indulging in indolence. “If the enemy charges, fire another shot there. The rest is our job.”

From atop his horse, Orba crossed spears with the mounted warrior who was at the head of the enemy troops. Sparks flew from the tips and the two horses had passed by each other before they had finished fading.

A feeling of heaviness remained in Orba’s arm. His opponent was a master at the spear. And going by the shape and colour of his helmet and armour...

“Nilgif.”

He turned his horse back as he shouted. For his part, Nilgif was also surprised to recognise his adversary.

“A masked swordsman. It’s you!”

It was without a doubt the opponent his brother Moldorf had told him about. Every time the masked swordsman appeared, he had gotten in his brother’s way.

So he’s the one who saw through my plan?

Feeling as though his head would explode at any moment from his seething enthusiasm, Nilgif gave his horse’s flank a sharp kick.

Orba and Nilgif passed each other again. With an unpleasant sound, the spear in Orba’s hand broke. Taking heart, Nilgif turned back once more. Orba however was already galloping away without turning back.

“Are you running away, you bastard!”

Nilgif was about to spur his horse forward but on either side of him, the spears of the enemy pikemen were already driving him hard. Kadyne’s cavalry formation had been thrown out of order by that cannon shot. They were being polished off one-by-one.

“Ah, wait!” Nilgif unintentionally raised his voice in a childish cry. He realised now that the masked swordsman had deliberately lured him in.

“Ngh!” As Nilgif suddenly leaned his head to the side, a broken spear whirled past.

Orba, the one who had thrown it, was flanked on either side by spear-wielding foot soldiers and pulled out his sword while still on horseback.

“Aim for that one rider,” Nilgif shouted but,

“Nilgif, what’s the matter? Your older brother magnificently knew when to quit.”

“W-What!”

A pikeman brandished his spear. Nilgif jabbed left and right with his spear and was about to break free but Orba raced to follow after him. He barely managed to stop a blow from the longsword with the top of his shoulder.

Nilgif ground his teeth. He knew that the enemy already held the momentum. Since their mortars had been snatched from them, if they needlessly prolonged things the enemy would swarm at them from the gates.

If you have to retreat, retreat. As long as you live, a day will surely come when you can wash away your disgrace.

Those weren’t the words of the masked swordsman but the teachings he had received from his brother Moldorf and which had been thoroughly hammered into him. Nilgif was quick to work himself into a frenzy but he had made preparations for this night raid while fully aware of the risk for his allies. He couldn’t allow anymore of his men to lose their lives.

“Eei, retreat. Retreat,” Nilgif said in a gruff voice that was much like his brother’s then, brandishing his spear, he sent flying in one go the mass of spearheads rushing towards him. For a moment, Orba also chased after him but, just like his brother, Nilgif did not allow him to draw up to him from behind.

A pursuit battle in the dead of night was dangerous anyway. What lay ahead from the relay-station town was still in Kadyne’s sphere of influence. Orba reared his horse bolt upright and raised his sword to halt his allies’ steps.

The fifty-three from Orba’s unit lifted their swords and spears high to starry sky and gave a shout of victory.

Among them, Orba returned the sword to his waist and stared intently at his right hand which was clasping the hilt. It was still numb and his grip strength hadn’t returned at all.

No doubt about it, his spear is as overwhelming as his brother’s.

Their names were famed in the worn-torn west. Moldorf and Nilgif; it was fine as long as it was one or the other, but if from here on the twin Red and Blue Dragons appeared together on the battlefield, things would certainly become very difficult.

When they returned to the town, Surūr Wyerim was waiting at the gates. His armour seemed to have been hastily thrown on, the cords to attach it were undone and he was missing a shoulder pad. The soldiers lined up behind him were in a similar state.

“Will there be even a single word of praise?”

When Gilliam said that, Talcott, who was riding beside him, laughed quietly.

“Who knows. But looking at that face he’s pulling, don’t get your hopes up.”

And in truth, between the lit torches held by soldiers on either side of him, Surūr’s face was trembling with rage. At the same time, Shique’s party who had gained control of the hills also made it down. After giving them some words of appreciation, Orba nimbly jumped from his horse.

“Why,” Surūr spoke. Even the moustache of which he was so proud was swaying and trembling. “Why did you stay silent when you knew the enemy was coming?”

Not upfront, Orba thought for a second. Those were not words that should be spoken in front of the soldiers. At least in public, he should have praised him, saying “good work” or something. Then I could have answered that “I was just doing what you told me to, commander” and the merit would have become partly yours.

In the same way as with Lasvius, when Orba couldn’t stand someone, there was a good chance that they hated him too. Surūr must also be capable, otherwise he wouldn’t have been entrusted with the command of the detached force. In this case, they probably just had poor affinity. When it came to Lasvius, he couldn’t tolerate Orba’s provocative way of doing things.

“I didn’t know it. I just had a hunch that they would come.”

He had had that hunch since that time when Surūr had ordered him to find where they would set an ambush. It was the perfect place to stage an attack, yet the enemy hadn’t despatched a single soldier there. Moreover, having taken part in the fights in various locations, Orba had thought it suspicious that the enemy was withdrawing so quickly. After carrying out thorough reconnaissance of the area, he had confirmed that the enemy had secured a path of retreat beforehand.

It looked like the enemy was deliberately using small numbers to entice them.

But Surūr didn’t want to listen.

“Were you in that much of a hurry to earn some merit? I have a thousand men to look out for. Did you not think that your selfish actions would endanger your comrades?”

“What!”

The previously calm and composed Talcott’s expression had changed. He started speaking faster than Shique could hold him back. “Is there anyone who can know for certain when the enemy will appear? When our captain was the only one to warn that they would probably come, didn’t you say you were handing over the soldiers to him? Except most of those bastards vanished without permission. In a hurry to earn some merit? You should try saying that when looking in a mirror.”

Talcott wasn’t the kind to bottle up what he wanted to say. He took this opportunity to let it all out. Attacked where it hurt, Surūr kept silent.

This is an ugly atmosphere right after a victory, Shique bit his lip while watching the nearby scene.

The difference in nationalities also looked likely to be a problem. The actions that Orba had taken had undoubtedly saved his allies from being routed and what Talcott had said was also entirely true, but – starting with Surūr – what was reflected in the eyes of the Zerdians who hadn’t had the chance to fight wasn’t so much admiration as anger. Talcott was from the coastal countries but to the Zerdians it would probably be the taken as “Those despicable Mephians defying the Battalion Commander.”

Both sides glared at each other for a moment, their eyes gleaming red in the torchlight. Then,

“Is there any liquor left?”

Orba spoke from behind his mask. Surūr’s eyebrows twitched.

“What? Liquor?”

“For the soldiers who were standing guard. Otherwise it’s unfair, since unlike you fuckers, they weren’t getting wasted.”

Orba!

To Shique’s horror, when Orba blithely threw oil on the fire, Surūr seemed for a moment to tilt towards the right then his fist sank into Orba’s jaw. Standing behind him, Stan hurriedly caught him as he seemed to fall over backwards.

A stir ran through the soldiers.

“Don’t get full of yourself, boy,” Surūr’s narrow eyes flared open. “Don’t think that Mephians can do whatever they like in Tauran. You’ll wield your sword the way I tell you to. Understand!?”

Surūr should probably have thought about the fact that at that instant, the commotion among the soldiers did not take the form of a shout of approval. About three hundred Zerdians had stood sentry with Orba and the others and had cooperated with them in the fight. Surūr’s fist had pulverised their joy over their victory and their pride in having accomplished such a feat.

“B-Bastard!”

“Stop. Stop it!”

Gilliam, Talcott and the short-tempered mercenaries started to step forward while Shique and the Zerdians they had fought alongside got between them to prevent it.

The night air mixed with the smell of the burning trees that had been hit by the cannonballs.

The next day, after Surūr had finished reorganising the troops, they finally set out on their march proper on Kadyne. Orba’s unit was of course removed from under Surūr’s direct command and was attached to Bisham’s company.

“That wasn’t like you.”

During the journey, Shique called out to Orba who was in front of him. Because their horses had been confiscated, all members of the unit were on foot. As Orba remained silent, he continued,

“This being you, I’d have thought you would handle it better. That said, it’s different if you’re intending to wrest the entire battalion away from Surūr.”

“A pain.”

“Me? Or you?”

“An incompetent commander is a worse pain than the enemy.”

Shique had to stop himself from bursting into laughter. It was rare for Orba to justify his own quick temper, be it by referencing second-hand knowledge gleaned from a book or by referring to something he had actually experienced.

“You’re riled up, huh. At any rate, both when you were a gladiator and when you were a prince, you were a genius at riling up your opponents.”

“Shut up.”

The boy’s real face showed through the mask.

That evening, one of the scouts came rushing up on horseback.

“Ho,” Surūr gave a slight smile upon receiving the news. The report stated that the border fortress was completely empty. Since Nilgif’s night raid had failed, he had pulled back the soldiers and they were probably planning on waiting in Kadyne itself.

However, the news that the scouts brought the next day left not only Surūr but all the soldiers completely baffled. The soldiers had all vacated Kadyne, their own country.

Part 3

When he heard the order, Nilgif wore an expression of complete incomprehension.

“Where are we withdrawing to?”

“You will proceed to Eimen and await the alliance’s main army there,” the sorcerer stated baldly and as usual his expression didn’t seem quite human. It was as though he was telling some fable that had nothing to do with reality.

“Ridiculous. If we do that, the troops that are advancing on us here will target us from behind.”

“Don’t worry about what you don’t need to worry about. We won’t just stand by and allow ourselves to lose manpower.”

“Wait. In the first place, wasn’t it your order to defend Kadyne to the death?”

As he spoke, Nilgif’s eyes went to the men standing behind the sorcerer. They had just been despatched from Zer Illias. They were every bit as eerie as the sorcerer. As they were all covered in black armour, they hardly had a single patch of exposed skin. Their faces were completely concealed by the black cloths that hung from their helmets.

I wouldn’t be particularly surprised even if there were skeletons rather than living faces behind those cloths.

Since earlier, they hadn’t spoken a word nor stirred a muscle. They were so stiff it impossible to tell if they were even breathing. Those black-clad swordsmen numbered about a hundred and fifty in all. He didn’t know how powerful they were, but it was obvious that they wouldn’t be able to defend Kadyne by themselves once Nilgif and the almost eight hundred soldiers under his command were gone.

The sorcerer however was the same as ever.

“The preparations have been completed. You did well stalling for time. Now do as I say. The enemy is approaching.”

The sorcerer gave absolutely no answer to the questions of what those preparations were or what kind of plan they had to repel the enemy. Nilgif scratched his nose with a bitter expression.

Shit, I lost so many comrades just like that. Thinking to annihilate the enemy here, I returned to Kadyne. And now?

Given that their orders were constantly changing, he was struck with the thought that something might have happened to make Garda feel shaken.

With this timing, could it be...

“As I told you before,” at that moment, the sorcerer gave a faint smile, causing Nilgif to shudder. Not because he read a human emotion in it. A doll which had been brought to life and which was imitating humans would smile exactly like that. “It’s best not to think about what you don’t need to worry about. We will stay here and guard the people. If you seem about to disobey your orders and return to the city, or join with the alliance, we will decapitate every last one of them.”

“You,” his teeth barred, Nilgif looked like some carnivorous animal. “Wait. You’re staying here? What are you fuckers going to do when the enemy gets here?”

“Die, of course.”

At the sorcerer’s response, Nilgif once more looked dumbfounded. He had always thought them baffling, but he hadn’t realised that it was to that extent. The sorcerer and the hundred and fifty newly despatched swordsmen were apparently going to await the enemy in Kadyne with the express intention of dying.

“Ah, but don’t think of waiting for that and then returning to Kadyne.”

“You’re going to bring up my family again, aren’t you? I get it!” Nilgif all but yelled before leaving, unable to bear that uncanny man any longer.

But depending on how you think about it...

It wasn’t a bad thing. Garda intended to relinquish Kadyne. The sorcerer and his group would remain here to prevent Nilgif and the others from seizing the opportunity to revolt. But setting their own situation aside, Kadyne would be freed. Even if the forces of the western alliance occupied it, they certainly wouldn’t massacre its population.

And Garda will fall too. He had a real sense that it was happening. That one by one, the layers were being peeled off from that terrifying, uncanny phantom not of this world, and that they were slowly drawing closer to the living human beneath.

“Then since your mind is made up, we’ll do as you say,” Nilgif said out loud. He believed that as long as the people of Kadyne were safely freed then the sacrifices made would not be in vain.

And after that will be Zer Illias.

The Kadynians there were not few in number. Among them was Nilgif’s family.

Would he live to see it again – his eyes blazed at the thought as gazed at his native land before turning to leave. There was no doubt that if the western alliance gained the upper hand, Garda would order him and his men to fight to the end. Even though they knew that nothing but ruin and death awaited them, they were unable to defy him and would only be able to obey.

However,

As they passed through the area of low-growing trees that characterized Kadyne, Nilgif urged the horses to go faster so as not to let his men grow mawkish – although he himself was the one most likely to indulge in sentimentalism. The soldiers knew their general’s temperament and didn’t say anything. They pretended not to see the large teardrops trickling like rain down his bearded face.

However... Yes, however, we will not die in vain. In this war, there has not been a single pointless death. The future generations will surely think so. No, they will definitely think so.

Surūr Wyerim’s expression was even more impatient than usual.

“Hurry the horses. We will liberate Kadyne then immediately set off in pursuit.”

What he feared the most was that the enemy forces that had left Kadyne would carry out a surprise attack on the main army sent to capture Eimen. Because that would be seen as a failure on his part.

There are too many things that just don’t make sense about the enemy’s timing in leaving Kadyne. Having drawn our troop there, Garda’s army will use our delay to attack the main force in Eimen... But if that was their real plan, they would have left a few soldiers in Kadyne. By making us lay siege, they could slow us down, even if only by half a day, even if only by an hour.

Orba was seized with unease. Yet it wasn’t the same kind of unease that he had experienced when he was the prince’s body double. He left his unit and ran forward. On the way, he borrowed a horse from one of the mounted warriors and rode up to Surūr who was in the leading party.

“Commander.”

“What,” Surūr irritably looked over his shoulder. “Mephian gladiator, do you feel like taking another blow from my fist?”

“The enemy situation is strange. You should consider setting up camp here for now and take the time to keep watch on Kadyne.”

“Idiot. The main force will soon be taking Eimen. What happens if they get attacked from behind by Kadyne’s troops? They’re the ones who want us to think that something is up so that we halt our pursuit.”

“But...”

“Shut up. Now go back to your position.”

Shit. The unknown unease that he had felt was exactly because of this. When he had been prince, he himself could move everything according to his own judgement. Of course, because of that the mental burden had been considerable, but now that he was in a situation where the commander was someone else and where he didn’t trust that other person’s judgement, his unease outstripped his former sense of strain.

It’s just like I said to Shique. Actually no, isn’t it like Shique said?

Orba bitterly regretted his childish revenge at the relay-station town. The man was uncongenial but if he had tried to get on with him, maybe he could have earned some credit which would have stood him in good stead in his current situation.

In a similar fashion, Noue, Garbera’s resourceful commander, and Lasvius, Helio’s commander of the dragoons had eventually joined forces with Orba in order to achieve their goals despite harbouring antipathy and irritation towards him, and they were able to reach a mutual trust. He couldn’t help but think that he had been very lucky in both those cases.

This is where I stand as just a mercenary, huh?

Orba’s brows creased in irritation while in his belly was an accumulated rage that didn’t seem likely to ever disappear.

He went straight back to his unit without returning the horse. There, he found Stan in a strange state.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Stan, I’m asking you what’s wrong,” Talcott was calling out to him while repeatedly shaking him by the shoulders but Stan wasn’t responding. His face had gone pale and his eyes drifted vacantly. As he was also walking unsteadily, Gilliam was supporting him.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” As their walking pace inevitably slowed down, they were overtaken by other infantry units and mocking voices called out to them. “Is he scared to fight? The famous gladiators are pretty useless.”

“Idiots,” Talcott yelled, completely enraged. “Stan isn’t a gladiator. And he’s survived far tougher wars than you have!”

Orba jumped off his horse and peered into Stan’s face which was glistening with sweat.

“Come on, get a hold of yourself. Do you need to lie down for a bit?”

He wondered if maybe he had been injured in the previous fight. Stan didn’t answer and simply murmured something repeatedly. Because his voice was husky and low, Orba couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Their unit was marching more and more slowly. When they were almost at the end of the line, Orba came to a decision and, with Gilliam’s help, got Stan onto the horse. He then jumped up behind him and, with an “I’m going ahead,” he galloped off.

Less than an hour later, the open gates of Kadyne came into sight. Supporting Stan, who was shaking so much he almost fell from the horse, he passed through the gates. The town was filled with cheering and joyous voices. The people of Kadyne had all come to greet Surūr’s troops. Many of them were crying as they embraced each other. They had been hostages until just now, not permitted to live freely.

Did they really just abandon Kadyne?

While thinking that this was completely at odds with his earlier hunch, for now, Orba had something that he needed to do. He caught hold of one of the townspeople and got the name and address of a doctor from them. Turning into one of the central streets, there was a building with a sign, just as he had been told, but the doctor was absent. He had probably gone out to the streets to celebrate along with the rest of the population.

Clicking his tongue, Orba barged in anyway and helped Stan onto the bed inside.

Stan started muttering something again so Orba brought his ear near the other’s mouth.

“What’s wrong? Do you need something?”

“It’s coming.”

“What?”

“It’s coming, it’s coming, it’s coming. Malice is wailing, the dead are screaming, the sky is burning.”

Stan’s mutters sounded like the delirium of a person gripped by fever and made absolutely no sense. Yet chills ran up Orba’s spine and his flesh started to crawl. Just as Stan was about to murmur something more, a shadow suddenly passed over the sun and the room was plunged into semi-darkness.

Startled, Orba was about to rush to the window but faster than he could do so, and even though he was still inside the building, he heard an ear-splitting scream.

“M-Monsters!”

The streets of Kadyne were still filled with wave after wave of cheers.

The soldier on guard in the watchtower was gazing down on them contentedly then looked up to the sky as though something had caught his attention.

The clouds are moving fast.

Although the skies had been a clear blue, from the corner of his eye, he could now see black clouds surging forward. At first nonchalantly watching them, the soldier’s eyes were suddenly nailed to them, as though unable to tear themselves away. They weren’t just moving fast. The clouds covered the sun in an instant and the entire sky turned black.

The people who had been dancing and singing all turned their heads to the sky. Then they too stared. The black clouds squirmed and throbbed like giant entrails then in an instant broke apart.

Their fragments rained down, one of them piercing the soldier’s breast. Shaking violently, his body slumped forward and fell from the watchtower.

It resembled a violent rain shower. But unlike simple raindrops, when the black shadows that were diving down fell upon the people, they tore their faces and limbs to shreds.

The streets of Kadyne that had been filled with merrymaking were now awash with blood.

“Monsters!”

That was the point at which Orba heard that strange cry.

There were winged creatures. They were about the size of a human child and their bodies were covered in black fur. They had fangs and their faces looked like those of monkeys. The strange, unknown creatures flapped their wings and relentlessly swooped down on the people below.

Their claws effortlessly tore through human flesh and easily drilled holes through armour and helmets. Those claws sliced through the backs of the people who ran screaming, their fangs bit through the heads of women who cradled their children protectively to their chests, and they swarmed the soldiers who tried to fight them off with spears. What they left in their wake were shredded corpses, unrecognisable from their original form.

What is this? Orba had rushed out into the streets and for a moment, seeing the entire town coloured in black and red, he could only stare in shock.

While his eyes were completely riveted to the sight, two demons leapt towards him. Orba instinctively reached for his sword’s grip. The next instant, he swung the sword twice. It unerringly mowed through the two bristly bodies – or it should have.

What!

The sword cleaved through empty air. Conversely, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his hand and wrist, and staggered backwards.

There was no time to remain stunned. A roar from the sky overwhelmed his sense of hearing and just as he was trying to figure out what it was, a new black shadow made its appearance. Looking up, Orba finally doubted his own sanity.

A huge dragon had appeared in the skies over Kadyne. It must have been forty or fifty metres long. It flapped wings that were even larger than its gigantic body and calmly flew through the sky.

Impossible.

It wasn’t possible for that kind of dragon to exist. He had heard that there were flying dragons on a volcanic island in the south, but this creature with its huge body, its thick paws tightly covered in black scales, its two horns growing from their elongated head... this creature couldn’t be anything but a product of the imagination. A long time ago, Orba had seen something similar in a picture book that his brother Roan had brought home as a souvenir.

In front of Orba, who was starting up astounded, the huge black dragon opened its mouth. Just as he realised what was happening, light flashed from its maw.

His instinct ordered him to duck. Even lying on his belly, he watched as far-off rooftops were blown away and debris flew as the beast breathed fire. A great many of the citizens had surely lost their lives. The dragon turned to prowl the skies once more as though searching for its next target.

Screams and wails resounded in Orba’s ears and seemed to fill them completely, showing no sign of stopping. He used his sword to help himself stand back up.

This is... sorcery? That thought struck him. There was no doubt that the black demons and the dragon were the sorcerer’s doing. This was why Garda’s army had pulled out its troops.

Faced with those supernatural phenomena, the hairs on Orba’s body stood on end and his mind seemed to go numb with fear. Despair flitted through his breast. If this was Garda’s power, what could a sword do against it?

Another explosion erupted and Orba dived down again. When he lifted his head, a black demon was coming straight towards him.

He quickly scrambled to his feet and jumped backwards. As he jumped, he seized his sword. The movement was a deeply ingrained habit hammered into his body. When he landed, his sword was at the ready. He had made in time. Like this, he should surely be able to defend against the demon’s claws.

But a sharp pain shot through the nape of his neck. The claws had effortlessly passed through his blade and their sharp tips brushed against him.