Rakuin no Monshou

Volume 6, Chapter 3: The Sorcerer Garda

Part 1

Back when the Tauran region first started to see a chance to push back against Garda's army.

Led by Moldorf, Garda's forces retreated northwest to Kadyne after their defeat at Cherik. It was Moldorf's home country. Naturally that wasn't why they fled there. Since they could not prevent the enemy from going north, Moldorf judged that they should leave a battalion there to consolidate their defence. But as soon as he arrived in Kadyne, he received an order from one of the sorcerer's who was Garda's subordinates.

“Take two thousand soldiers to Eimen.”

Eimen was further north than Kadyne and could well be thought of as the last strategic rampart from which Zer Illias could be defended. They would leave a force of about a thousand in Kadyne. Hearing that, Moldorf looked puzzled.

What the... Eimen could hardly be called a suitable position from which to defend. Perhaps, Moldorf pondered, rather than send a large military force to defend Kadyne, which was encircled to the east and west by mountains, they had judged that the enemy might move its troops towards Eimen, which was considered easier to attack. But in any event, Garda's orders were absolute.

Sir Sorcerer probably has some plan in mind.

This was normal for Garda's army. Even though they won victory after victory, once the enemy's power had been suppressed, those in charge of the army should have been handing down orders. But instead, they left generals and soldiers alike without any guiding instructions.

All they said was “Wait for the signal for the next march,” and after conveying that message, they refused to see anybody. During that time, the soldiers, who were just a jumbled hodgepodge without any unity, grew wilder and rougher. With their families or lover taken hostage, there were also many whose impatience turned to despair.

This was the first time they had lost a battle. Of course, the soldiers obeyed the sorcerer for the aforementioned reasons, but that wasn't all. There was no denying that they had felt a certain awed dread towards the sorcerer whose true nature was unknown and who would seize victory no matter what force opposed him.

Even that sorcery has weakened.

The soldiers were increasingly losing morale. Rather than letting them run amok in his home city of Kadyne, it was certainly better to take most of them to Eimen.

Having convinced himself of that half out of a feeling of depression, Moldorf had his subordinates start making preparations again. He himself used what time they had left to go and see some familiar faces.

Like the fearless Kadyne warriors that they were, you wouldn't have thought from their bold manner that their city was being occupied, but still, their expressions, words and actions betrayed their rage. Among them was Moldorf's younger brother, Nilgif. He was a warrior who bore the epithet “the Blue Dragon of Kadyne” and Moldorf and he were known together as the “Twin Dragons of Kadyne”. He was born from a different mother than Moldorf and was more than ten years younger than him. But in looks and in the impression they gave off they were very similar.

“Brother! You’ve returned?”

Nilgif called out in a voice like thunder, his feet stomping loudly. Although he was slightly shorter than his brother, he was broad. He looked like a wine barrel from which sprouted large hands and feet, and Moldorf’s mouth softened when he saw that dearly missed figure.

“Yeah, I lost, I lost. Total defeat.”

“Oh?” Nilgif’s thick eyebrows rose then drew downwards.

“What?”

“Ah, no. I was thinking that I expected you to look grimmer. You’ve worn a frown since the day Kadyne fell to Garda. But you seem to be in a good mood today.”

“How could I be in a good mood after being defeated? How many men were lost? I’m not that heartless.”

“I might have phrased that badly.... Rather than being in a good mood, I should have said that you’re full of energy. Right, there’s usually only one reason for you to be like that after losing a battle, Brother.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

Both of them had removed their armour to sit down and nearby attendants were holding out kumis [1] for them. The people of Kadyne had much of the nomad spirit in them and their way of life also resembled theirs. As they were near an area of lakes and marshes, the lands around them were fertile and easy to farm, but the wilderness to the south was deliberately used as pasture for large herds of livestock. It was also said that the craftworks passed down from generation to generation among the nomads had reached cultural maturity in Kadyne, so high was their quality.

“When you’ve met a worthy foe on the battlefield.”

“A worthy foe,” Moldorf repeated, “Well, you might be right.”

Since joining Garda’s forces, Moldorf had won one victory after another. But not once had he felt excitement or joy from those battles. One or two of Garda’s sorcerers would come to the troops and, acting in place of commanding officers, they would direct which way the army was to go. That was all.

Although even if you called them commanding officers, everything about Garda’s army was strange. In any case, Moldorf didn’t even know those men’s names. They wore hoods that always half-concealed their faces and because of that, even their looks couldn’t be clearly distinguished.

“Think that my voice is Garda’s voice, that my eyes are Garda’s eyes,” the sorcerers never tired of saying. They were undoubtedly Garda’s subordinates but they would always simply point to where the army was to march, without giving any concrete orders about tactics or how to deploy the soldiers.

It’s strange.

What came after was left entirely to Moldorf and the various other generals. Those generals had originally come from separate, rival powers, and needless to say, it was rare for them to agree on anything during the war councils.

Yet they won.

Overwhelmingly.

How? – There was no need to wrack one’s brain. No matter which country it was, just before Garda’s army made its move, or sometimes just after, internal strife would unfailingly erupt. Before anyone knew it, one of the generals or perhaps a younger child from the royal family who had been excluded from the succession race would side with Garda’s forces and fan the flames of rebellion from within. Thereupon, Garda’s army would attack with the force of a gale. It was enough for Moldorf and the others to race forward on their war horses or their dragons, and to bellow out their war cries as they charged.

There was no need for strategy.

That kind of fight won’t get a warrior’s blood boiling.

Moldorf’s helmet was in the shape of a dragon. While drinking from a wineskin that was the same shape as the horn on that helmet, the great general of more than fifty years of age pondered.

“There was certainly a man who was somewhat interesting.”

“In what way?”

Nilgif leaned forward. Maybe it was because he was some fifteen years apart in age from his brother, but it was an oddly youthful gesture that didn’t fit his splendid beard or his many feats of arms. Even now, his eyes brightened like those of a child listening to an old legend told by their parents.

“A swordsman who wears a mask. He seems to still be a boy, but he is capable. He also seems to have a good brain and everywhere I went, he got in my way.”

“Ho.”

While telling his younger brother about what had happened on the battlefield, Moldorf couldn’t help remembering what that masked swordsman had said.

Show true loyalty, Moldorf. Prove to your princess that Kadyne will not bow to the likes of Garda.

Everywhere that Garda’s army moved to, internal strife and betrayal would unfailingly arise. Kadyne had been no exception.

However, it hadn’t been because of a general or a soldier who was dissatisfied with the treatment they received or with their king.

Princess Lima Khadein.

The king of Kadyne’s only daughter had been tormented nightly by a certain evil dream. At the time, it was something that was happening throughout the Tauran region. Garda would appear in the dream and with strange arts handed down since ancient times, he would seduce young maidens and lure them to him.

Lima had consulted her father and the priests of the Dragon Gods faith about it, but it was before Garda had emerged as a genuine threat and those around her had laughed it off as nothing but an ordinary dream.

Then at about that same time, a group of pilgrims had arrived in Kadyne. They had claimed to be in the middle of going around the cities of the western region to offer prayers at each temple. But they were soldiers sent by Garda.

That night, Lima Khadein had suddenly risen from her bed and, without anyone noticing, she had opened the gate and let them into the castle.

Guided by Lima to her father’s – in other words, the king’s – bedchamber, they had silently assassinated the king of Kadyne. Having donned weapons and armour inside the castle, the soldiers performed a surprise attack on the guards at Kadyne’s North and South gates, which they then opened to let in the allied troops that had been lying in wait outside.

Meanwhile, Kadyne’s army had been almost entirely unable to react. Both Moldorf and Nilgif were captured without being able to display even a tenth of the military prowess that had made them famous throughout the west.

Before long, Kadyne had been completely occupied. Some of its people had been taken to Zer Illias, while the remainder were made hostages to control the soldiers. Princess Lima was one of those taken away.

From then on, Moldorf and the others were Garda’s underlings.

If I were to cut down the sorcerers – he had thought that over and over again. If he could recruit volunteers to kill the sorcerers then immediately turn their horses towards the temple ruins at Zer Illias where Garda was and attack, then maybe they could put an end to these ridiculous battles.

However, since the sorcerers always seemed to seclude themselves alone somewhere when they weren’t at war, how was it that they were surprisingly well-informed about the situation within the army and the occupied territories? Moldorf guessed that if those sorcerers were “Garda’s eyes” then there might also be spies within the army who acted as “the sorcerers’ eyes”.

In which case, until he knew how many spies there were and who they were, he wouldn’t be able to make a move. There was no telling what harm might befall the people in Kadyne and Zer Illias either. Moldorf was praised to the skies as a general among generals, but he was not so callous as to believe that anything was justified as long as the enemy was dealt with.

“How’s the situation in Kadyne?” Moldorf asked his brother once he finished telling him about the battlefield.

“Not much has changed. Although those sorcerers have recently started remodelling the temple of the Dragon Gods faith.”

“Remodelling it? It doesn’t look any different.”

“Yeah. I thought they might be planning to make a show of Garda’s power by tarting up the temple, but it seems they’re just adding stuff to the inside. Everyone except them is forbidden from going in or out and nobody knows what the hell they’re up to.”

“Hmm.”

“By the way, Brother, were you able to see your family?” Nilgif asked as he poured wine into his brother’s cup.

“No,” Moldorf shook his thick neck either side, “I haven’t seen them.”

“Why not? Even though they are hostages, if you ask to see them, Brother, even those guys wouldn’t say no.”

“It’s no good if I’m the only who gets to meet them,” Moldorf said decisively. From the generals to the regular soldiers, almost every man in Kadyne had had their family taken hostage. His brother Nilgif’s family had also been taken to Zer Illias. Considering the situation, Moldorf couldn’t ask that he alone be allowed to see his family.

“Brother,” Nilgif now lowered his voice.

“What?”

“Brother, you currently lead seven hundred of Kadyne’s soldiers. In the same way, I’m in charge of five hundred of our soldiers here. Three of the five sorcerers who were in Kadyne have left and it seems there’s some kind of commotion. Not even Garda could have expected the defeat at Cherik. Brother, maybe now...”

“Don’t, Nilgif.”

“Why not? Taúlia, Cherik or Helio’s troops will be here soon. If we rebel as they advance, we would have the impetus to take back Kadyne, join with the West’s allied forces and attack Zer Illias.”

Nilgif’s eyes were glittering as they only did when on the battlefield. As Moldorf’s younger brother, he naturally held a soul as fierce as anyone’s. Although he could almost feel himself being drawn in, Moldorf firmly shook his head.

“The people would become victims. Don’t forget that Princess Lima and your family are at Zer Illias.”

“Speed, Brother. We won’t give the enemy the chance to use the people or the princess as a shield. If we attack the enemy capital quickly enough, they’ll likely just abandon everyone to their fate. No one would be fool enough to drag hostages along with them when the spears are almost at their throats.”

“That’s...”

What his brother was saying was true. Moldorf wrinkled his brow. The enemy was a sorcerer. The man who claimed to be Garda was unfathomable. He had caused innumerable situations that utterly went against common sense and controlled nearly half of the western lands.

“And also, whatever you say about Princess Lima,” unusually for Nilgif, he openly displayed his anger in front of his brother and shouted, “isn’t she just a whore who succumbed to Garda and betrayed her country?”

“Enough!”

“Why? That is no longer the princess we knew. The real Princess Lima Khadein would never have been deceived by sorcery!”

“We are being toyed with by that sorcery and forced to fight against our will. Think on that before you malign the princess further! ”

“Brother!”

As violent sparks flew from the two’s eyes, a man dressed in long robes noiselessly appeared. It was one of the sorcerers staying in Kadyne whose head seemed to be bald above his lean face. Before the startled pair could turn around to look at the doorway, the sorcerer spoke.

“Have the Twin Dragons of Kadyne gotten into a drunken brawl between brothers? While that isn’t something I mind, it would be problematic if you forget that we are still in the middle of a war. And also,” his voice seemed to slither out, “don’t bother with pointless ideas. Our eyes and our ears are everywhere in the western lands.”

From the way he spoke, he seemed to have heard the brothers’ conversation from the beginning. As was to be expected, Nilgif’s expression changed but, in part because he had been drinking, he gave a forced laugh and fired a shot in retaliation against this sorcerer whom he hated beyond hatred.

“But for all that, it seems you weren’t able to tell that Helio’s army would attack my brother’s troops. Not even a sorcerer’s eyes are infallible,” he said with heavy irony.

The sorcerer’s thin lips curved into an unpleasant smile. “That can be true on occasion. But even so, our eyes are not something you should make light of. Oh! Sir Nilgif, your child is a daughter of seven? They say that daughters who resemble their fathers are beautiful, but in your esteemed case, it is fortunate that she takes after her mother.”

“Bastard, what are you...”

“As was promised, your family is currently being treated well in Zer Illias. But a single word from me from here and that treatment might well change. We could have them go from receiving two meals a day to only one every two days, or no, every three days. Or we could have either the mother or the daughter be sacrificed to the Dragon Gods. Oh my, the young lady appears to have suddenly burst into tears. Perhaps she sensed my presence. Your wife is cradling her and singing close to her ear. That isn’t a lullaby from Kadyne, is it? I believe it is a song from the Fugrum region.”

“Bastard...”

This time, the colour drained from Nilgif’s face and his expression stiffened. His wife and child had certainly been taken to Zer Illias. And certainly, whenever his daughter would cry, his wife would hold her close from behind and sing to her. Furthermore, it was true that his wife was not from Kadyne. These were not things this sorcerer should have known. Not without seeing them with his own eyes, hearing them with his own ears.

The sorcerer’s expression did not turn triumphant. Before turning to leave, he simply added, almost as an afterthought,

“Hasten your preparations, Sir Moldorf. The enemy will divide their forces between Eimen and Kadyne. Kadyne’s defence will be left to you, Sir Nilgif and Eimen’s to you, Sir Moldorf. With the Twin Dragons of Kadyne protecting the rightful ruler of Tauran, the soldier’s morale will surely rise.”

Nilgif’s fists were shaking. Whether it was from rage or from fear, Moldorf pretended not to notice.

“I beg you, don’t get carried away by your temper while I’m gone,” he insisted firmly.

Seven days later – at the time Orba was heading towards Taúlia – Moldorf was back on his horse and left from Kadyne with two thousand soldiers, heading up north. North, where the wide steppes that had been used as pastures in the days of Zer Tauran stretched out. There, as though guarding the entrance to them, was Eimen.

The wind was fierce.

It was the season when the sand-laden wind blowing from the west grew stronger and stronger. Kadyne was protected from it by the western mountain range, but tiny particles of sand clung to the soldier’s faces as they marched northwards to a position overlooking Eimen in the east. Wearing his helmet low over his eyes, Moldorf urged his horse forward and kept his face devoid of emotion.

This is an ominous wind, he couldn’t help thinking.

Legend had it that the western desert was where the Dragon God clan had been defeated, and each grain of sand within it came from where their fossilised remains had crumbled away.

The wind blew throughout the region’s meadows.

At a point located almost exactly at the centre of the steppes was Zer Illias.

A city of ruins.

The wind scattered the piles of sand that no one trod on, then brought more sand that once more piled up within the cracks in the paving stones.

At the top of the wide staircase, at what had originally been the highest place within the ruins, was the only building that had recently been renovated by human hands – a temple to the Dragon Gods.

The sand had also been swept away and the gateposts at the entrance soared proudly upwards. Amidst a landscape where all was death and ruin, it displayed an eerie vitality.

And from within, a voice called out,

“Lord Garda!”

Part 2

“Lord Garda!”

“Yes,” after being called out to once again, an old man turned around.

It was the innermost part of the temple. The impressively high ceiling that led there from the entrance suddenly sloped down and a large altar resembling a bed fit for a giant had been placed there. Further in still, statues of the Dragon Gods stood on pedestals.

“I was called by a different name for more than sixty years. It will take some time before it really sinks in.”

The old man was dressed in plain grey robes and at his waist hung a dagger sheathed in scabbard woven in golden thread. Apart from some bracelets at both wrists, he wore no ornaments save one: a small jewel that shone dully at his forehead. However, it was neither held there by a thread nor incrusted into a circlet. It appeared to be buried directly into the deep wrinkles in the old man’s brow.

Garda.

A name handed down with awe and dread for more than two hundred years. And now, that name was being spread throughout the west with a fear and hatred far rawer than when it was transmitted as part of history.

There he undoubtedly was, in that dimly-lit temple. As for the person himself, he was a short, elderly man of around sixty. He could not really be said to fit the image of a peerless sorcerer who had revived in this world after two centuries. His expression was colourless and gloomy, his hair was thinning and a somewhat straggly beard hung from his lower lip and chin.

This was the sorcerer Garda, the man who had drenched the paving stones of innumerable city-states in blood and who had decorated the gateposts of the royal courts with the severed heads of their sovereigns.

“Zafar, Tahī. What is it? I left the war to you as I will be readying the magic until dawn.”

“Our deepest apologies,” the man called “Zafar” bowed his grey head. His age was not much different from Garda’s. He was tall and broad-chested. With his fine head of hair and equally splendid beard, he looked far more ‘Garda-like’ than Garda did.

In complete contrast, “Tahī”, who stood next to him, was a young woman. She appeared to be in her early twenties and with her dark-brown skin, supple body and black-rimmed eyes brimming with seductive radiance, she was so beautiful that if she but dressed in jewels and finery, there was surely no king whose favour she would not receive. Tahī parted open her moist lips,

“We were anxious to report to you as there has been an intruder.”

“An intruder? A spy from Taúlia?”

“No. A sorcerer. He was likely sent by Ende. We found him as he was about to break through the magic barrier. We reduced him to ash: not one bone, not one piece of flesh remains.” Perhaps because she was still savouring the aftertaste of slaughter, Tahī’s expression was bewitching. Her eyes were glittering with excitement and she almost seemed to be panting. “Even the sorcerers of Ende, said to be descended from the Magic Dynasty, have degenerated. Lord Garda, you were right to leave that place. Those sorcerers who are bound by obsolete customs and laws are no better than the ordinary people who understand nothing about ether. They can’t even comprehend the words of the Dragon Gods handed down from long ago or even one fraction of the laws governing this world...”

“No, that doesn’t seem to be true,” Garda’s voice was amused.

Before Tahī could grasp his meaning, he flung out his right hand as though he were tossing something away. Immediately, sparks suddenly flew right behind where Zafar and Tahī were standing. The two sorcerers whirled around and there before their eyes, illuminated by the fire, was the figure of a person.

“You!”

Tahī’s beautiful face was suddenly twisted in hatred. Zafar instantly put himself on guard. Encircled by the ring of flames that Garda had called forth was a man in trailing black robes with a hood pulled low over his head. “Ridiculous! I burnt you to nothing with my own hands!”

“Indeed,” spoke the man in black, “but that was only a ‘shadow’ that I had created. If you can’t even see through that much, then you sorcerers who call yourselves Garda’s subordinates will soon lose the power that allowed you to sweep through the western lands.”

“What!?” Zafar raised both his hands. The flow of ether, invisible to ordinary people, was stirred as he moved, but,

“It’s fine,” Garda stopped him. As though brushing aside both Zafar and Tahī, he approached the man in black. His orders were absolute and the sorcerers, wiping the hatred from their faces, fell back on either side of Garda and kneeled.

Garda snapped his bony fingers. The flames surrounding the man in black promptly disappeared.

“It’s been a while, Hezel. So Ende’s Bureau of Sorcery chose you for its assassin.”

“It has nothing to do with assassination. This is of my own volition. I wanted to confirm a former comrade’s triumph with my own eyes.”

“Your tongue is as glib as ever, you damn cub. Well, it’s fine. Zafar, Tahī, leave. This person is my guest.”

“Yes.”

“But...”

Unlike Zafar who commendably bowed his head, the embers of killing intent still smouldered in Tahī’s eyes. But when Garda sent her a glance, she immediately bowed, then with a supple tread left the temple with Zafar.

“Be careful when you go home,” Garda’s voice still sounded amused. “You might get attacked from behind. You probably won’t get away with as light a wound as this time.”

“As expected, you saw through me,” Hezel said dispassionately as he pulled back his hood. Surprisingly enough, he was a youth with well-ordered features. However, a large part of his right cheek was hideously burned. And the wound appeared to have been made mere moments ago. Yet even though it should still have been giving off the stench of burnt flesh, Hezel didn’t seem to feel any pain. “Despite what I said just now, that was fitting of the clan that long protected Garda’s tomb.”

“Information travels fast. Certainly, starting with Zafar, the sorcerers claim to be the descendants of vassals who served Garda directly. But only Tahī, the woman who injured your face, seems to have a different way of manipulating ether. It would make for a fascinating subject of research – well, anyway. I don’t have time to take on anything else at the moment. And anyhow, the research I dedicated my life to is about to bear fruit on a scale that cannot compare to anything that I did before. This is something I could never have talked of in Ende.”

“Research performed by Master Reizus... so in other words, taboo magic.”

“What taboo,” Garda gave a low chuckle. It was strange to the point of being awe-inspiring how in the old man’s perfectly nondescript face, his smile was filled with malice. “It’s as Tahī says. Those bound by outdated conventions cannot use ether to solve the mysteries of this world. Ethics and morals are no more than an iron cage. If you don’t step out from it, you lot will forever be small people living in a narrow world.”

Originally, this man was called Reizus and did not claim to be Garda. Originally, he was not even Zerdian but was a sorcerer from Ende’s Bureau of Sorcery...

Sorcery – although it was referred to by that simple word, there were not that many people in this world who understood what it truly was.

The one who had laid the foundations of this planet’s sorcery was the father of the Magic Dynasty, Zodias. Zodias had investigated the various ruins scattered across the planet that had been left by the Dragon Gods and, using the artefacts excavated from them, had discovered how to manipulate natural phenomenon.

Ether was indispensable for doing so. This planet’s seawater comprised a certain substance which changed property when it was vaporised and transformed into the energy supply that powered the artefacts. That gas was called ether but all seawater did not contain it and the ether content varied depending on the location. Moreover, there had been many reports in recent years that ether was drying up.

Magic had once allowed humanity to drive away the Ryuujin tribe, known as their natural enemy, and to build in these lands an empire so splendid that they had believed it would last a thousand years. Magic too was now declining.

“Small people rely on steel to repeatedly wage war. It’s utterly antiquated and pitiable. Even after leaving the home planet, humans have not torn free of their own husks. I am convinced that sorcery is the path to evolution. Look at the Magic Dynasty. Look at how much peace and prosperity it brought. In order to bring back that era, we cannot let magic decline. It is ridiculous that research aimed at that should be taboo.”

Reizus had truly dreamed of reviving the Magic Dynasty. And all the more so when he realised that the time he had left was dwindling. His zeal grew day by day until finally he stole into the royal treasury where were stored the artefacts inherited from the era of the Magic Dynasty – also called “vessels of sorcery” – that Ende’s royal family had protected from generation to generation, and wilfully carried out as many forbidden books to read as he could.

From amidst this vast store of ancient knowledge, Reizus finally found a topic that had been taboo even under the Magic Dynasty. The technique for obtaining ether from something other than seawater. When he saw what was described, his heart nearly stopped from the shock. Although it wasn’t as efficient as high-content seawater, it was in a sense an inexhaustible resource.

It was none other than “humans”

According to the ancient documents, ether was by nature one component of the energy needed for humans to live, and it was confirmed that everyone emitted a small amount of ether at their time of death. Furthermore, in combination with a special vessel of sorcery, it was also possible to collect tiny amounts from living humans. The first to realise that possibility had not been the sorcerers but the Ryuujin tribe, humanity’s natural enemy who had stood in its way when it had first alighted on this planet. Legend even had it that they kept captured humans caged for that reason, as livestock to supply ether.

This is it. In order to revive sorcery, there is no other way but to carry this out, Reizus had decided. However, not even the banned books were sufficiently detailed that reading them allowed him to grasp the method in full. There was no choice but to identify it by his own means. To that end, a huge research facility and a great many humans for experimentation were necessary.

Although Ende’s Bureau of Sorcery certainly had extensive facilities compared to other countries, they weren’t enough to fulfil Reizus’ ambitious desire. Even so, he was unable to abandon it and so decided to use the Bureau’s largest research facility without authorization.

In terms of test subjects, one only had to take a single step outside and there were mountain-loads of them. After all, if they lived from here on, they would only be a bunch of people who would run through the planet’s resources. Regardless of whether they were old or young, men or women, Reizus secretly kidnapped the people of Ende. And every time he tested the effects of the artefacts he had to hand, it ended in failure. No fewer than a hundred irreplaceable lives were sacrificed for his experiments.

A year after he had begun his research, the Bureau of Sorcery finally uncovered Reizus’ actions. When the nature of his crimes was exposed – and these naturally threatened the continued existence of the Bureau of Sorcery itself – he was banished from the Grand Duchy of Ende.

Yet by some strange twist of fate, almost immediately afterwards he obtained everything he desired. The free use of numerous artefacts, the great sorcerer Garda’s research data and, above all, an abundance of test subjects, or in other words, a great many sacrifices.

It had been about half a year since Reizus had taken Garda’s name. As city after city fell, a multitude of people were given up as test subjects. Indeed, they had not been sacrificed to the Dragon Gods. Their bodies, hearts and souls had been consecrated to Reizus’ experiments.

“Hezel, you must have felt it too. More than anywhere in the world, more than Ende, more than Allion, it is in these western lands of Tauran that the greatest mass of ether now swirls.”

“Indeed. You should certainly be able to obtain results,” Hezel spoke dispassionately, looking unimpressed. “However, of all the information that I have been collecting about ‘Garda’, there is one point that I don’t understand. Why have you gathered women in high social positions from all over the west?”

As though that question were an extremely amusing joke, Reizus – no, it was undoubtedly the sorcerer who called himself Garda – laughed.

“The evil sorcerers of fairy-tales usually carry off princesses and imprison them in high towers.”

“Indeed.”

“You are boring. There’s never been any point talking to you.”

“Well, is that so?”

“Putting jokes aside, my research has shown that the ether produced by those in high social positions is of equally high quality.”

“So that’s it,” Hezel shook his head, probably taking it for a joke. “Social ranks are no more than something established by humans. Furthermore, these are turbulent times. A man who was just a slave until yesterday might become king at the same time that a woman who had until then lived the life of an elegant noble might lose her homeland and fall into slavery.”

“The heart affects the soul,” the edges of Garda’s mouth curled upwards into a grin, “A heart that aspires to be noble, a heart that is revered as noble by others, these are not without worth. The heart affects the soul and the soul affects ether. You could say that just as the qualities one is born with differ between each person, so does ether differ depending on the person and the circumstances they were raised in.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll show you something good.”

Garda raised his hand and snapped his fingers once again, and a sound came from where the statues of the Dragon Gods were. Quietly and unobtrusively, a woman had appeared. Between the altar and the pedestal was a staircase leading underground and she appeared to have climbed up from there. The young woman was clothed in a thin robe.

“The princess of Kadyne. Has it been about four months? That’s old for ether-producing livestock.”

Lima Khadein. The eighteen-year-old princess had lost the noble appearance that had once been compared to flowers and to butterflies and, bowing like a slave, folded her legs beneath her and kneeled where she was. Garda drew near her and caressed her cheek with his finger.

“Princess, who am I?”

“Lord Garda. The ruler of this world and my ruler also.”

“Will you follow my orders?”

“Whatever they may be.”

Her expression was vacant, as though she were wandering in a dream although awake. Garda turned towards Hezel for a moment,

“This woman ushered my soldiers into her own country’s castle, causing the fall of her homeland. Do you understand what that means?”

“You used sorcery to brainwash her?”

“Yes. But it’s not easy to manipulate a person’s heart completely. A human’s natural instincts and preferences, or things like morals are surprisingly firm and if you give an order than runs counter to them, temporary hypnosis will have no effect. Right, for example,” Garda turned back towards Lima and once more stroked her soft cheek with his bony finger. “You said that you would follow my orders whatever they may be?”

“Yes Lord Garda. I am at your orders.”

“I will give you an order.”

“Yes.”

“Die.”

“Yes.”

Garda drew the dagger from the scabbard that was thrust into his girdle and threw it at Lima. She picked it up with both hands and pointed the tip of the blade to her throat. Her bearing had been almost too smooth but now, her movements suddenly stopped. The dagger was reflected within her large, beautiful dark eyes. Her shoulders trembled and her hands shook.

“What’s wrong. That is my order. Die.”

“Yes,” she answered but although it certainly seemed that she would carry it out, just as the blade was about to reach her throat, her movements stopped. Lima’s trembling became uncontrollable and teardrops were overflowing from her large-pupiled eyes.

“How painful for this woman,” Garda once more turned towards Hezel. He was smiling. It was a smile exactly like that of a child showing of the playground they had claimed for themselves. “Although her consciousness would obey my order, her instinct refuses to do so. That she cannot follow my order is inevitably painful for her. Do you understand, Hezel? However much one may control the outer layer of consciousness, one cannot destroy a human’s core through half-baked methods.”

“Right.”

“And thus, the magic used on the kidnapped women takes time and has to be repeated. For them to dedicate themselves entirely to me from the bottom of their heart – or better put, from their very soul – I would need to tune their mind into becoming as one with me. If I could do so, I wonder if I could obtain even higher quality ether. But that’s back-breaking work. On top of being a task that I couldn’t entrust to anyone else, I would have to dredge up each of those women’s memories one by one, probe their personality, figure out where and how to manipulate them to do my will, what to alter so that they abandon their hearts to me and I would have to do all of that groping in the dark. When I took the name of Garda and obtained free use of so many sacrifices, I certainly didn’t expect to have to take the trouble of doing something like understanding women’s feelings.”

“Master Reizus.”

“What?”

“If you don’t release her, this woman will be destroyed from within.”

Although he spoke indifferently, looking at it, Lima Khadein still had the dagger in her hands and was even now in the midst of her struggle. Her entire body was shaking, her eyes were open wide and drool was dribbling from her lips. With a single muttered “Oh,” Garda held his hand out before her eyes. At that, the princess of Kadyne closed her eyes as though asleep, her knees gave way where she was and she almost fell forward.

“I took great pains to procure the livestock. Losing even one of them like this would be regrettable. Although...” Garda raised a finger with a gesture that swept through the air and Princess Lima rose unsteadily to her feet then, without making a sound, in the same way that she had appeared, she disappeared from sight between the altar and the pedestal. “As it is, I still haven’t obtained the perfect ether. With Tauran’s city-states, if a ruler’s lineage lasts three generations, it is talked about as having history. The blood is thin. It can’t refine the soul. When all’s said and done, what I want is the blood of the Bazgan house which once founded Zer Tauran here. But even if I get it in my grasp soon, my body is not that of a god. There is such a thing as time being limited.”

“However, Master Rei... No, Master Garda. Naturally you will be aware that the other states of Tauran are currently gathering as one. No matter how much ether you have in store here, if you do not make a move quickly, there is a chance you will have very little time left indeed. Why do you let your enemies do as they please? If Garda cowers in fear after only one defeat, won’t all those other nations be whipped into a frenzy?”

“Do you still not understand, Hezel? The supplies of ether that I have stored and refined here are no more than a “hand” against them.”

“And, what will you do?”

“This temple itself is the same as an artefact that Garda – I mean the Garda of two hundred years ago – constructed. The restorations that have just been completed weren’t given priority simply to flaunt Garda’s stronghold. Garda built structures similar to this temple all over the place and selected sorcerers with a wavelength that matched his own, then he was going to use the temples and those people to create an ether “passageway”.”

“A passageway?”

“That’s right. Once the “passageway” was complete, without stirring from their far-flung locations, the sorcerers could dispatch ether and achieve communication. That’s no less than saying that in the secret arts he pursued, Garda’s control over sorcery was even more advanced than that of the Magic Dynasty. Information and magical power could fly about instantaneously throughout this huge continent. His control achieved greater perfection than anyone.”

Hezel didn’t give any reply but he stiffened unintentionally. He too could feel it. A soundless wave, a formless pulsation. With the temple as centre, Garda was like a giant who had extended his limbs over all of Tauran. A giant who had sucked the lifeblood of a multitude of people and who even now continued to expand.

“Communication is still possible but in order to send ether, artefacts along the same lines as this temple need to be built all around. First is Kadyne. The facilities there are complete. If I can send the ether that is stored here in Zer Ilias to Kadyne without stirring from here, then I should be able to win without losing a single soldier,” Garda grinned broadly. “That’s right, from the start I expected to draw in troops once the west started gathering. I grew tired of capturing cities one after another. It’s easier to take them when they’re all bundled together. From now on, wherever the enemy breaks into will be within my sphere of influence.”

“......”

“Controlling Tauran isn’t much. Granted that I were to obliterate humanity within the entire region, I would still be far from my ideal ether. You should return to Ende and give whatever report you like. That the foolish old sorcerer Reizus that you all drove out no longer exists, that in his place there is a man with absurd and terrifying ambitions who would seize hold of the world.”

The man once called Reizus laughed, his face like that of another person.

Part 3

While voices were being raised in various countries, Ax, Lasvius and Yamka II assembled once more at Cherik castle more than half a month after the troops led by Moldorf had been repelled.

During that time, Taúlia, Helio and Cherik had cooperated to spread out a strict military cordon, while Garda in contrast persisted in not moving a single soldier. He must of course have understood that they were setting up a common front, so if, for example, a small state that was about to join Taúlia’s side were to be bullied by having a few neighbouring villages set alight, or if there were to be a raid aimed at the goods that were constantly travelling along the highways, or if a camp were to be set up in the Coldrin region in order to prevent the enemy from heading north as much as possible – those were things that seemed likely from Garda as he had been up until now. Yet his military force was only moved around Lakekish, Fugrum, Eimen and Kadyne, or in other words, within the occupied territories and things were so quiet it was eerie.

Although Ax and the others were unable to read his intentions, they were at any rate able to steadily amass their military strength without encountering too many obstacles. The total number of soldiers they currently had gathered was a little under ten thousand. Naturally not all of them would be used for the offence but it had already been decided that if necessary they would send up to seventy percent of them to the front lines. Nevertheless, compared to the manpower, their horses, dragons and ammunition were somewhat lacking. Whether or not to take the time to gather sufficient amounts of these was something that Ax, who did not want to delay the departure to the front, and Yamka, an advocate of caution, got into frequent arguments about. Yet every time, Yamka would reluctantly back down at the words,

“Have faith in the Bazgan family’s authority.”

He was of course in a position of weakness.

Ax’s retainers and the leading figures of Helio were running all over the west giving instructions to the troops that were leaving from the various cities, allocating weapons and supplies, and organising the military units. Moreover, on Ravan Dol’s advice, Ax had set up an advance air carrier base north of Lake Soma, across from Cherik, on the old trade route to Eimen.

The ships they planned to send to the base were two cruisers belonging to Taúlia, seven small carriers gathered from the different cities and, at best, fifty short-range airships. In the west, where buying ether took time, using air carriers in battle was not the norm. For a large fleet it was quite a sparse line-up, but having it or not having it made all the difference in the world. According to information, Garda’s forces had air carriers. The ships would be used to guard against attacks from the flank or the rear during their march, and of course, they would be a powerful aid once the assault was launched on Zer Illias.

One of the two owned by Taúlia had only just been purchased from a Mephian merchant. It was faster than the other ships at the advance base and had a longer range. As was to be expected, the one who had provided it was Zaj Haman, the merchant who had the monopoly over shipping air carriers in Mephius.

“There are strongholds blocking the way to Zer Illias,” Lasvius pointed with the pommel of his sword at the map spread out on the desk. There were two city-states northwest of Lake Soma. “First is Eimen. The shield of Zer Illias. The enemy should have positioned most of its military strength there as well.”

Hearing the name ‘Eimen’, Ax’s expression clouded over. It was a city standing at the boundary between the wilderness and what had been pastures in the era of Zer Illias, and it was also the land where, in the past, Ax’s older sister had been sent in marriage. Ax himself had never been there but they had long had diplomatic relations with Taúlia. Yet now, he didn’t know if his sister was safe or not.

“It is protected to the south by mountains but the other three sides are fairly open. It will be hard ground for the enemy to defend. There is however a possibility that they will build impromptu forts to prepare against our invasion.”

Lasvius then tapped a location southwest of Eimen with his sword’s pommel.

“The other is Kadyne. Its military capability cannot be overlooked. It looks like the enemy has emptied Fugrum and Lakekish and gathered their soldiers at these two locations.”

Kadyne lay southwest across the mountains that protected Eimen. It was a city known for its belt of lakes and marshes and for its forest of low trees.

“Hmm,” Ax nodded.

Up until now, Garda’s army had concentrated the forces they had absorbed on a single point and had delivered their attack by surprise or by night. There had also been internal strife in each of states he had targeted, and while it had worked well for him, it seemed that once you removed that ability, Garda was left not knowing what to do next.

As Ax once more looked over the entire map on which information received from the scouts was jotted down here and there, he smiled.

“After only a single defeat, has Garda moved into nothing but a defensive stance? So he’s ignorant of battles after all. We have the greater number of soldiers. We can win this war.”

He wasn’t normally a cheerful-looking man and for that reason, the smile he gave to those who had become his allies was all the warmer.

Eimen and Kadyne.

Seeing that whichever one they targeted the other would move in for a pincer attack, the allied forces would march in both directions and would carry out operations on both fronts. Of course, the enemy anticipated that and had divided their soldiers in half, intending to hold the decisive battle in Eimen.

As Ax and Lasvius had previously discussed, the enemy excelled at information warfare. It was unavoidable that enemy spies would be lurking. Nobody knew where their eyes and ears were. It was best to assume that the entire contents of their council of war would be leaked.

“That being the case, we’d never even get started on working out some kind of plan,” Ax’s way of thinking was simple. He simply decided to perform a two-prong attack. “Being greedy and trying to take both of them will only result in a bad outcome. It would be great if the troops sent to Kadyne act as a defence against the enemy. Sir Lasvius, what will you do?”

“I will go with you to Eimen, Lord Ax.”

The commander of Helio’s dragoons wasn’t the sort to go in for complicated plans either. He thumped his chest once and spoke plainly. In this short period of time, Ax had come to like this man. He nodded contentedly.

“It’s decided then. We, the main force, will head to Eimen and we will send a thousand soldiers to Kadyne, consisting mainly of infantrymen and mercenaries. Lord Yamka, I leave the defence of Cherik to you.”

“Un-Understood.”

Yamka II, who had been left out from start to finish, looked like he had just woken up. It had been the same when he had been linked with Garda and he was the kind of man who left everything to others and who thought it was fine to just wait for what would happen afterwards. Perhaps as far as Yamka was concerned, the situation with Garda was already as good as over. Ax laughed inwardly.

Good. As Ravan always says, I should act the part of a serene and uncomplicated king.

According to the old tactician, it had a bad influence on the officers, soldiers and retainers when Ax looked grim and sank into silence. “You should act serenely,” Ravan always said. “Sufficiently so that the rumour will spread that you no fool. You will then be loved, my lord, and the retainers will feel that they must stretch every sinew to firmly support you.”

There’s a limit to how much of a fool you can be. There’s no mistake that this Yamka is a fool, but because of that, his retainers do not stand firm.

The problem was that Garda seemed able to read the minds of all people, no matter how clever or wise they might be.

Hence the brute force approach. It’s not wrong, but...

As bold as he was, even Ax couldn’t shake off his unease whenever he considered whether they had any chance of success in this fight.

Three days after the tripartite talks, Orba, stationed in Helio, received his orders.

“This is the worst.”

What made Talcott scowl wasn’t that they had been chosen as part of the force to capture Kadyne but that the one who would be leading the thousand soldiers headed towards Kadyne was the commander of Helio’s infantry battalion, Surūr Wyerim.

Another two days later, summons came from Surūr. Because the call extended to platoon leaders, Orba would also need to go.

The story of Taúlia’s masked mercenary had become something of a rumour in Helio. He was person who had rendered distinguished service by rescuing the city along with Lasvius. And of course, it was also known that he was Mephian.

“Thank you for coming all the way from Taúlia. Or, no, it was from Mephius, wasn’t it? That’s an even greater distance. As expected of a gladiator, your ability to sniff out blood and battles is impressive,” Surūr said sarcastically as soon as he spotted Orba’s mask.

He had a round face but his narrow eyes were unpleasant. His moustache had been beautifully styled with what was clearly fussy attention.

Half of the Kadyne capture force was made up of Helio’s regular soldiers and centred around Surūr but the rest was a collection of people of various origins. Helio’s mercenary unit, the horseback archery unit of mountain tribesmen, infantrymen from states so tiny their names weren’t even recorded on maps, a dragoon unit of nomads. And the fifty-three-strong mercenary platoon led by Orba.

When everyone was gathered, Surūr read out the organisation chart that he appeared to have personally put together.

Orba brought it back to his own unit.

“This is the worst,” Talcott looked up at the sky again.

Orba’s platoon wasn’t attached to any company and had been placed under the battalion commander Surūr’s direct supervision.

“Since you guys are Mephians, he’s going to torment you in full. No really, we’ll probably get given the most dangerous duties. Stan, you made the wrong choice. Can you never, neeever get things right?”

“Brother, I didn’t say anything.”

Orba didn’t particularly pay attention and lowered his gaze to the maps he had been collecting this past half month. He wasn’t displeased. However, he had inwardly decided that whoever he served under, he would assess the situation from their own surroundings and he himself would make sure to ascertain what it was he needed to do.

I’m not going through a repeat of Coldrin.

At that time, he had been pretty apathetic about the war. Saying that he had been apathetic while taking up his sword and heading out to risk his life on the battlefield was pretty strange, but thinking back to how he had been that time at the Coldrins, there was no other way to put it.

The defeat at the Coldrin Hills had been carved deeply into Orba’s heart. It wasn’t that he believed that he could have done something with his strength alone, but even so, if he had been a little more careful, and if he had had a little more influence on those around him, then he thought that they wouldn’t have been so comprehensively defeated.

Orba’s eyes landed on one point of the maps. Kadyne.

Apparently that Moldorf’s younger brother, Nilgif, was stationed in charge of defence there. Most of the troops were probably from Kadyne. It wouldn’t be the same kind of hodgepodge that Moldorf had been leading and, in the first place, Nilgif and the others wouldn’t be fighting as part of Garda’s army but in order to defend their own home. They would be coordinated and their morale would be high.

Considering the number of soldiers, Ax seems to be thinking that we’re to keep Kadyne in check. Which meant that they didn’t have to capture the city at all cost. He didn’t think that plan was wrong in that it anticipated the enemy deployment. But.

Right, “but”...

Their opponents were the sorcerer’s military forces. Whenever he thought of what was to come, every time he was about to draw a conclusion, that “but” reared its head.

Just as the west was finally coming together, Orba felt the same kind of unease as Ax did.

References and Translation Notes

1. ↑ Fermented mare's milk used as a drink and medicine by Asian nomads.

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