Rakuin no Monshou

Volume 4, Epilogue

His throat was hideously parched.

The man who half-opened his eyes realised that he was alone in this place that was wrapped in darkness. As he was about to rise, burning pain shot through his entire body and he moaned.

That fucking bastard, Gil. That inhuman demon...

While he – Oubary Bilan writhed with pain and was tormented by the memory of his terror as that sword fell on him again and again, a fierce resentment blazed up within him.

They had fallen into a trap laid by Mephius' crown prince Gil, one hundred a fifty of the powerful Black Armoured Division had been lost, and Oubary himself had for no reason had agony inflicted upon him. He had had his ear cut off, his right leg crushed, and of the fingers of his two hands, there were only three that he could still freely move. His ribs had also been broken and Oubary wasn't able to raise his torso without crying out in pain.

Where – is this?

Oubary was suddenly assailed with fear that he had been locked up in an underground prison where even light couldn't reach. If nobody came, and if he received neither rations nor water, he would slowly weaken and die within this impenetrable darkness.

"Hii" A small shriek escaped from deep inside his throat. "Hi-Hiii, hiiiii!"

Seized with frenzy, Oubary forgot the pain from his wounds and tried to get up. When he did so, his head struck something. When he brought both hands up to the low ceiling, it lifted up unexpectedly easily and a breath of fresh air reached Oubary's nose.

He raised himself and found that he was surrounded by walls on three sides but that there was a rectangle cut out of the fourth side through which he could see outside.

Night.

Oubary realised that he had until now been locked up in a rectangular box. Looking hard, he couldn't believe his eyes; there was a sliding wooden bolt. He had been left in a broken down carriage that was tilting diagonally.

Oubary crawled unsteadily out of the carriage. A slight wind was blowing. Carried by that wind, small raindrops moistened Oubary's dry skin.

"..."

Exposed to the wind and rain, he gradually sorted through his fragmented memories. Amidst the flames, Gil Mephius had stepped over the bloody and filth-smeared Oubary, and, looking down,

"Don't kill him."

He had given that order to someone.

"Keep him alive at all cost. And when I leave Apta, do as I directed..."

Each time Gil's voice played within his memories, his head hurt as though it were going to burst. But, on who knew what kind of whim, not only had Gil not killed him but the bandages wrapped around his various wounds proved that he had even gone so far as to have him treated.

That damn demon, just what, what is he planning?

While a terror that seemed to slice away his very soul and a hatred that burned so fiercely it could turn his bones to cinders alternately took over his body and soul, Oubary crawled forward. Were there no pursuers – he quickly turned to check every time he heard a sound. Before long, he realised that the surrounding landscape was not that of Apta.

Th-This is...

He reached a low hill. Towering beyond the sparse copse of trees, he could see the tower that stood at the centre of capital – commonly known as the "Black Sword".

"Solon!"

In his unexpected delight, Oubary laughed out loud like a child.

Using a piece of wood found on the hill in place of a walking stick, he continued on for about an hour, irritated by his slow progress, until he finally reached Solon's city gate. As the soldiers guarding the gate suspiciously pointed their bayonets towards his strange figure, he identified himself as 'Oubary Bilan'.

The soldiers looked at each other. Naturally Oubary expected that they would immediately apologise for their rudeness and lead him inside, however that wasn't what happened. In a flash, one of them had raced inside and brought back a great many his comrades to surround Oubary.

"W-What are you doing!" Oubary cried out, but no one listened to him and he was led to a building surrounded by stone walls.

Awaiting him there was Colyne Isphan. Among the Mephian nobility, he was a man who had acquired the position of head vassal by showering the emperor with obsequious flattery and by spreading malicious rumours.

"How dare you nonchalantly show up in Solon?" He spat out with unusual violence as he fixed his eyes on Oubary through the grate.

"What are you talking about?"

"Do not feign ignorance. Solon has been in an uproar this past week. His Highness, Crown Prince Gil was assassinated in Apta by the Black Armoured Division."

"Assassinated!?"

Oubary opened wide his mouth to which dried blood still clung.

According to Colyne –

After taking reinforcements to Garbera, Prince Gil had returned to Apta five days after he had left.

Apta made merry for the hero's return. Gil Mephius had smilingly responded to the calls of the people thronging the streets, and had even said "I'll hold this child" as he lifted the grandchild that an old woman was holding up with both hands.

Yet it happened that very night.

Fires were lit everywhere within the fortress and a banquet was held. After drinking a cup or two of wine,

"I'm tired so this is going to my head quickly", he had said with a wry smile and, in order to cool down, had left the hall. He went to a balcony surrounded by a low railing that faced the river Yunos.

A great many people within the hall witnessed it.

And a great many people heard it.

There were maybe two or three rounds of continuous gunshots and the prince, who had been holding a wine cup in his hand, jerked violently and lurched forward before disappearing over the railing.

"Prince!"

Most of the people in the hall, regardless of age and sex, had rushed over. But the prince's body had fallen from the cliff and disappeared beneath the pitch-black surface of the river Yunos.

Soldiers quickly lit pine torches and searched the river by boat and airship.

"But what the people who were searching the river saw instead of the prince was," Colyne spoke cheerlessly, "men galloping away on the opposite shore wearing the equipment of the Black Armoured Division."

"Ridiculous."

"The search carried on night and day. Soldiers were also dispatched from Solon in response to the news. Although he still hasn't been found, since the crown prince must have passed away, His Majesty will probably call off the search within the next two or three days and plan to hold a funeral – is what people are saying."

"Ridiculous!" Shouted Oubary, wheezing and gasping for breath. "I did not give any such orders. For one, I was prevented from moving by the prince himself. As for those Black Armoured Division soldiers, they'll simply have been other people dressed up in our equipment!"

"You were prevented from moving?" Colyne's expression was of one of beholding something utterly repulsive. "Well now, it is a fact that shortly before the uproar, you and more than a hundred of the Black Armoured Division disappeared. What happened to those subordinates of yours?"

"They were killed by the prince. Caught in a foul trap!"

His wounds were aching, causing his anger and emotions to flare up, and, dripping in cold sweat, Oubary's expression was truly ghastly. Across from him, Colyne snorted.

"By the prince, is it? I don't think much of your excuse. Tell me, if the prince prevented you from moving and killed those of the Black Armoured Division, why did he do it?"

"Wh-Why?"

"After concluding the alliance with Taúlia, His Highness Gil went almost immediately to reinforce Garbera's army. In the space of that short interval, why did he find it necessary to ensnare you and your men in some sort of trap?"

"That's..."

Oubary opened his mouth but was unable to form any words. Even though he was asked why, the reason wasn't something he could explain. The one point that occurred to him was something the prince himself had mentioned: that Oubary couldn't offer the explanation that in the past, he had himself set fire to Mephians villages.

In place of Oubary who seemed unable to say anything, Colyne's voice grew stronger. "You, on the evening of your arrival in Apta, it appears that the prince, who was drunk, pointed a sword at you."

"What?"

"Of that too there is considerable evidence. When very drunk, the prince pointed his sword at a retainer. That is assuredly a problem, however that was also no doubt the root cause of your plot to kill him..."

"Ridiculous!"

Once again, Oubary forcefully cried out. Even so, Colyne carried on.

"If you still won't admit it, should I add the testimony of the prince's Imperial Guards? About five days ago, they witnessed about a hundred of your Black Armoured Division fleeing West to take refuge in Taúlia. Without answering their challenge as to who they were, those soldiers suddenly unsheathed their swords and attacked. A desperate struggle ensued and the Black Armoured Division and the Imperial Guards were all but mutually wiped out. You were also wounded but managed to escape, isn't that right?"

"Bullshit." Blood seemed about to gush out from Oubary's bald head at any moment. "T-There's something strange about that prince. No, not just something. Everything about him is strange. This is all part of his plan – that demon who's taken on the crown prince's appearance! Don't be fooled! I saw it with my own eyes. How he cast my men into the flames. I actually crossed swords with him. Yes – That's it! Send an airship at once. If you go to that village, you'll understand. That's where those bandits that he gathered are. So... "

"Enough!" Colyne swished his mantle and made to leave. Oubary hurriedly clung to the iron grate.

"Wait. You'll regret it if you don't wait. Sooner or later, Mephius will be taken over by that demon. That man's next goal will be the emperor's position. He'll deceive everyone around him and keep on fooling them as he intends to take the throne!"

"How would the deceased prince do any such thing?" Colyne scoffed as he walked away. "Besides, His Highness was from the start the heir to the throne. If he wanted the emperor's position, he only needed to wait."

"Wait. Wait I say, Colyne!"

"You should go and tell the same tale to His Majesty who is crushed with anguish. Or to Garbera's princess whose soul will forever bear the scars." As Colyne's footsteps faded away, for some reason Oubary's screams turned to laughter.

"Then perish. You damned fools. You too can all die in the flames. When that time comes, it'll be too late to realise that I was right. It'll be too late!"

Oubary's laughter echoed through the stone prison for so long that none knew when it would stop.

"Quit it, Shique. Do you want to make me die of laughter?"

The next morning, the rain had stopped and the weather had cleared.

A single carriage was driving along a Mephius highway. The coachman was a man so huge he drew looks from the merchants and travellers that they passed along the road and his hair that danced in the breeze looked exactly like a lion's mane.

From inside the carriage,

"Seriously, it's a true story. Bah, since you don't understand romance, you wouldn't get it."

"Ha ha ha. And? What happened next? Why is a man who distinguished himself in battle as one of the crown prince's Imperial Guards in a place like this?"

"Well, I'll save the full story for later. Rather than me, I want to hear about you. I was thinking about getting in touch with Tarkas so I was asking around at his firm and among the merchants he knows. And then the subject of you came up."

"When the gladiators were all taken into the Imperial Guards, Tarkas got the equivalent amount of money. I helped him out for a bit while he was setting up a new gladiator group."

The giant coachman who had once been a gladiator in the Tarkas Croup was called Gilliam. About half a year ago, when the gladiators from the Tarkas Group had been accused of being involved in the crown prince's attempted assassination and when, having been transported to Idolo, it looked like they were every one of them going to be executed, Prince Gil had decreed that they were to be incorporated into the Imperial Guards. After the fight at Zaim Fortress with Ryucown's forces, those who had wanted to had stayed with the Imperial Guards but some had walked away free with a cash reward in hand.

Gilliam had been one of those to choose freedom.

"But I've had it with the gladiator business. As a way of also living by the sword, I thought being a mercenary would be better so with my reward I bought a carriage and armour from a merchant I know. Just as I was thinking that I'd need companions, you got in touch."

"A mercenary, huh." From where he had plopped himself down in the carriage, Shique stifled a yawn. "Mercenaries aren't widely employed in Mephius."

"With both Garbera and Taúlia having ended their war with Mephius, there's too much free time here. Didn't you say that you wanted to make something of yourself? If you want to be recognised for your achievements, it's best to go to where the wars are. The Tauran provinces are ideal. Did you know? Taúlia is getting its army prepared. And the opponent is obviously not Mephius. They say a sorcerer's troops have started laying waste in the West. They say he's passing himself off as a sorcerer resurrected from two hundred years ago, now there's a story that's much more amusing than your tall tale."

"Is that so. I don't think it's so different though."

Around the outskirts of Solon, the road was paved with bricks but around here it was simply marked by tress planted at regular intervals. It led further and further west.

"Which reminds me, what about that princess he was so head over heels for? Was it okay to leave her?"

"Anything you talk about immediately becomes vulgar." Scowling, Shique turned worry-filled eyes behind him. "It's not that he wanted to leave her. That's probably what's most painful for him right now. He wanted to be by her side and support her even if only a little more. It's just that..."

"It's just that?"

"It's just that there was a person he could ignore even less."

"Same as ever, I see." Gilliam shrugged his broad shoulders. "And how is the lover-boy? I'm going to want someone to replace me as driver soon."

"He's asleep. Ah, don't wake him up. He's completely exhausted. Anyway, various things happened."

"You're still saying that?"

"I'll take over as driver. You take the corner, don't wake him and be quiet."

Ignoring Gilliam's grumbling Shique took over his seat and fixed his eyes on the boy who lay on his side in the carriage, with his own arm as a pillow. Like a follower of Badyne, he had a cloth wound around his head, the ends of which hung down on either side and concealed his face. While putting back his blanket which had slipped down, Shique whispered in his ear.

"Sleep tight, prince. You've done well. Even if no one else knows it, I do. Is it enough now?"

The road spread out straight. The sky was so blue it stung the eyes.

Mephius, Garbera, Ende.

Although at present, the relations between the three countries at the centre of the continent had entered a period of stability, each still contained live embers and the situation was still unpredictable.

The one who understood that better than anyone was not a statesman or a noble or a general of those three countries but the boy lying sideways in that old carriage.

During that half day after entering the carriage in which he greedily clung to sleep, what was he dreaming of?

For just a short while, the brand on his back hidden, the boy had taken off both his masks.