Vol 2 Chapter 5 (1/2)

Chapter 5: Masked Clash

Part 1

Orba left the detention camp early that morning. His match was in the afternoon. His trip back to, and then return from the palace took approximately two hours.

There were only a few short hours until the opening act. The gladiators were training in groups in preparation for the upcoming fight on the stadium grounds. Like the other day, the masked gladiator set foot in there with them. And like last time, they tried to ignore him, though in fact, their attention was stolen away by him the entire time.

The masked gladiator did not hold a sword in his hand, nor did he remove his clothes to do stretches, only continuing to walk around their vicinity.

Ever since Pas.h.i.+r cursed him out as a ‘dog’, the other sword slaves no longer viewed Orba as the same slave that they were. Instead, he was now an enemy that worked for Mephius. In fact, most of the eyes chasing after that masked warrior held hostility.

If that Mephius-hating Pas.h.i.+r is following through with this plan alone, then the plan must match along with his goals.

That was what Orba suspected. In that case, it was better to get closer to Pas.h.i.+r and those who hated and resented Mephius. He might even be able to take part in this plan himself if things went well. Orba smoothly stroked his bare face and began to climb down the stairs of the stadium seats. Yes, since some time ago, Orba had been looking down at the stadium grounds. And to this gladiator walking around the grounds,

“Orba!”

He called out. He could only force a smile at the irony in calling out his own name, and jumped down onto the stadium grounds.

The masked gladiator made his way towards...o...b... Well aware he had drawn the attention of everyone,

“I have to say, you did a great job yesterday. You’ve made me proud. But don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just this.”

“...”

‘Orba’—or rather, this masked gladiator, did not respond.

“Your opponent today seems to be Gash, an enemy soldier from the ten year war with Garbera, said to have beheaded a hundred men on the battlefield. He’s a freak feared as the ‘Demonic Beast of a Hundred Kills’, once freed from being a slave for his services, and cast off as a slave a second time for killing his commander. He’s also attracted the people’s attention. You get it, right? What the people want to see is for that hero to be struck down by the sword of the new hero, you. Then the value of me, who appointed you, is sure to go up. Listen up. Kill him quickly and surely. I won’t permit a close match. Kill him with a single blow. Understand?”

In truth, the masked gladiator said nothing. However, he pulled off an act as if he had. And opposite him, Orba suddenly slapped that mask off his face.

“Don’t talk back to me, sc.u.m! So you already think you’re a hero? Who do you think the one who saved you from being a slave is? Gash is a strong opponent? Yea, he’s not weak, I’ll give you that. But, if that so called strong Gash won’t be killed by you, then I have no more use for you. I’ll have you made a slave again in under a minute! Got it?!”

Orba shouted in all his arrogance, leaving the masked warrior in the dust.

He cast a fleeting glance at the lowly gladiators, who sent hateful looks his way.

“All set,” Orba murmured, and then he headed towards the dragon’s abode, which happened to also be located near the stadium grounds. The dragons used in the gladiator games were all put in cages. There were also noticeably larger cages whose interiors stood empty. On the final day two days from now, the two men chosen as Clovis and Felipe would lead two hundred slaves to fight against several large dragons. The cages were likely readied for that purpose.

“Orba.”

Hou Ran called out to him using this name. Although there were no signs of anyone around, he raised his fingers in front of his lips in a panic. “Shh!” Hou Ran, finding it humorous, imitated him and performed the same gesture.

“How complicated, having two names that is. Dragons a.s.sociate no meaning to the sound of names, but I can teach them the general concept. Which one do you want me to teach them?”

“Can’t you just go with whichever?”

Unreasonable as it may be, he held a grudge against Ran. But he had now forgotten it.

“How about it, which Baian can I handle best?” he asked.

The battle with Gash in today’s semifinals was on dragonback, riding the medium-sized Baian. This was something that even Orba had only experienced a few times.

“If you’re looking for those used to people riding their backs, there are some. They’ve been trained for military use so they listen to commands. It’s just that this child here would suit you better.”

Hou Ran caressed the snout of the sole dragon struggling to jut its head out between the cage bars. She narrowed her almond eyes.

“Do you remember him? You’ve ridden him before.”

“Sure.”

Orba nodded in response, though it did not mean he remembered its face. As Ran mentioned, there was a time back when he was still a sword slave that the dragons were brought out and he had ridden on a Baian’s back. Thinking back, Fedom came along immediately after and set him up as the prince’s double.

“This child here is the best for you. It’s gotten attached to you. See? It looks so happy now that Orba’s come.”

The Baian’s eyes glistened and snorted roughly as it incessantly flicked its tongue in and out.

“...I’m not seeing it, as usual.”

Orba spoke unconcernedly. Gaining a dragon’s affection was the same as being treated as its meal.

“On the other hand, which one would I least likely be able to handle?”

“What are you going to do if I tell you?” Ran said, piqued by his strangely found interest. “Are you going to pin him on your opponent?”

“And what if I were?”

“You coward.”

“It’s called strategizing.”

Orba smiled, revealing his white teeth. He returned to the palace, and once it neared evening, made his way to the stadium once more.

Of course, this time he did so wearing his tiger mask and leather armour.

Tomorrow, the four contenders for the t.i.tle of Clovis and Felipe would be chosen and they would each hold a one-on-one match against one another. Today, the n.o.bles’ seating area was one thirds filled for the battle that could be called the finals qualifiers in the selection of those chosen four.

Just before noon, the emperor Guhl Mephius appeared, having brought along several of his retainers. The emperor was not a man particularly fond of the gladiator games and last year, with the exception of the final round, rarely showed himself. Everyone rumoured that Orba had caught his eye.

And also having caught possibly even more attention than the emperor was the presence of Vileena Owell. Because she had not shown herself in a public sitting until now, the people packed in the venue had temporarily forgotten the game as they gazed at this foreign princess.

Held in between the several matches today would be the coming of age ceremonies.

Amongst the n.o.bles’ and commanders’ sons aged twelve years and older, four had stepped forward. Rogue Saian’s son, Romus, was the youngest at age twelve, but what caught their attention most was Commander Odyne Lorgo’s second daughter, Ronnie Lorgo. Indeed, this young girl was strong of heart, appearing completely unscathed by the dragon being brought out towards her.

The Baian’s neck was wrapped in chains and muscular soldiers held the chains in both hands. Ronnie lightly hopped onto the dragons back and easily moved the dragon. As she basked in the cheers, she gave a single bow fit for a lady.

Ronnie climbed down the dragon, and smiled at Romus who waited on line. She then whispered something into his ears. From an observer’s point of view, she appeared to be encouraging Romus and giving him words of advice.

“I’ll praise you for coming here and not running away with your tail between your legs. But it’s impossible for you. Before you cry yourself to tears, why don’t you go ahead and say you’re suffering from stomach cramps?”

But this was what she actually said. These two had shared such a relations.h.i.+p since far back.

In little to no time at all, Romus’ turn was up. The soldiers urged him on, but without treading a single step, his gaze turned to search his surroundings.

“Daddy won’t be coming to save you,” Ronnie said softly.

At that same time, he spotted Hou Ran at the gates where the gladiators entered from. Ran smiled at him and gave a nod. Returning an a.s.sertive nod, Romus valiantly walked towards the dragon and jumped on its back.

In doing so, the dragon’s body twisted left and right. It may have been a young dragon, but even the slightest of movements was enough to pull along the soldiers holding onto its chains. Even Romus found himself starting to fall off, inducing the crowd to give off cries of horror. However, Romus never lost his calm. He lay sprawled on the dragon’s back and placed a hand on the back of the dragon’s neck. The dragon let out a low groan, and gradually began to calm down, then it finally began to move its feet. The largest outpour of cheers rained down on Romus on this day.

His parents both heaved a sigh of relief, and Ronnie, far from being angry at having the spotlight stolen from her, stood in incredulous shock.

The coming of age ceremony ended without incident, and so began another series of gladiator matches. They were all gladiators who had won through their battles since the first day, so their skill was undisputed. The stadium shook in antic.i.p.ation of these high levelled battles.

And indifferent to the wild enthusiasm surrounded her,

“Princess, is...o...b..-sama’s turn still yet to come?” Theresia spoke with a paled face. “Truthfully, I cannot bear to watch. Please tell me when his turn has come. Until then, I will be keeping my eyes closed.”

“What in Garbera’s name do you think you’re saying?”

Vileena’s own expression wasn’t looking too good. Even now, necks and limbs were sent flying and b.l.o.o.d.y entrails spewed out beneath them. But Vileena never averted her eyes, only watching motionlessly as she formed two fists above her knees.

Before long, a Baian was reined out from the eastern gate. The matches here on would proceed on dragonback; that is to say, it was just about Orba’s turn. For one reason or another, the colour returned to Vileena’s face when,

“Princess.”

The emperor’s page came and kneeled before her.

“His Majesty has extended his invitation to you. If you do not mind, he wishes to enjoy the game together with you. By all means, the person accompanying you is welcome to join as well.”

Vileena and Theresia both looked at each other.

“I accept.”

She had no reason to refuse. They stood up, and while they walked towards the area the emperor was seated, Theresia pulled at her sleeve and whispered in a hushed voice,

“I’m begging you, please do not bring up the issue of Lord Kaiser when you meet with the emperor. In an arena setting, these gentlemen are more fervid than usual. I fear that a minor mistake could lead to an irreversible situation.”

“As I would expect of you, Theresia. You pay careful attention to your surroundings.”

She jested lightheartedly, but on meeting the emperor’s eyes, she gave a bow while unable to hide the anxiety that appeared across her face. Guhl Mephius prepared a seat beside him for Vileena. And as if right on cue, the names of the two gladiators in the next match were called out and they began to enter the arena.

The masked warrior, Orba, and the gladiator who once earned his share of achievements during the war as a slave in the battlefield, Gash. At the appearance of these two men, whose figures they were already well familiar with, the arena’s excitement soared.

“The new hero and the former hero,” Guhl Mephius suddenly spoke. “In light of this country’s future, I’ve come to realize one could employ tricks here to prevail as the new hero. However, I will not permit this within the arena. Those who cannot cut open their own path through their own power are not worthy to be called a hero.”

Vileena showed no inclination to respond. Guhl then asked,

“Do you favour the gladiator games, princess?”

“I do not,” Vileena immediately answered, paying no heed to Theresia’s horrified expression. “They are slightly overwhelming. In all honesty, I feel faint from being struck by the smell of blood and surrounding fervour here.”

The emperor gave a lighthearted laugh.

“You say the same things Lana would.” He mentioned the previous empress’ name. “The label of savage that other countries have given to Mephius is admittedly true. However, this entertainment is just as necessary to the citizens as the bread that fills their plates. Not only does it foster the emergence of powerful warriors, but it is a must in preserving our militaristic traits. Men a.s.semble under the banner of a strong sword. And because they believe they are protected by a strong sword, they are able to pa.s.s their days peacefully. This is something the princess also must have experienced.”

“...”

“Well, peace with Garbera has been established at long last. Next year, I hope to be able to invite many airs.h.i.+p pilots from Garbera and engage with them in a racing contest. It is sure to generate a festive mood. I hope to receive the princess’ a.s.sistance on its occasion.”

The emperor said half-jokingly. Vileena cast her eyes slightly downwards in contemplation. This emperor gave off the atmosphere of a kind, good-natured old man, yet he surely planned to feed any of his retainers who dared voice an objection against him today to the dragons. She understood this by seeing the various expressions that coloured the statesmen's faces. Although she understood, it was not something she would concede to.

Orba and Gash both stepped into the middle of the ring. Even amongst all the named gladiators gathered in Solon, they were particularly famous. Their names were both repeatedly called out in throat wrenching cries. The emperor surveyed the uproar from start to end. When it subsided, he asked,

“Who do you believe would be more likely to win, Princess?”

“I do not know the peculiarities that lie in the sword. I simply wish for Orba to win.”

“I see. Orba is the sword-slave who infiltrated Zaim Fortress and rescued you. It is not unreasonable for you to want to support him.”

“It might be brazen of me to ask, but who do you believe will win, Your Majesty?”

“That would wholly depend on who the G.o.d of fortune smiles upon,” Guhl spoke curtly, “...Is what I would like to say, but that would be discourteous of me. Princess, how about we place a bet? If the princess desires for Orba’s victory, then I shall bet on the gladiator Gash.”

“What are you...”

“There is no need to worry. This will only serve as a friendly wager. Should the princess win, I shall grant you any one of your requests. And if I were to win,”

“...There is nothing I could hope to offer you.”

“I would like to be given the honour of naming my grandchild.”

Vileena was breathlessly taken aback. That single remark had brought back those distant memories of her grandfather residing in the Garberan royal villa, whom she had been separated from.

What sort of child will you give birth to and raise up?

I would like to see that endearing visage of you cradling the baby in your arms.

The Mephius emperor, Guhl Mephius, and the former Garberan king, Ainn Owell. These two elderly personages, who were as different as the day and night, had been connected through their thoughts of a grandchild.

Vileena remained clueless, not knowing what to say. During this time,

“The two warriors, who now approach death’s door, offer up your salutations to His Imperial Majesty!”

In conjunction with the decreed voice, Orba and Gash faced the emperor, and placing one hand on their chest, pointed the spear in their other hand up towards the sky.

Part 2

Two Baians, one size larger than those used in the previous ceremony, were brought out in front of these two men. Their horns glistened and their body brimmed over with energy; these dragons were fully ready for battle.

Orba and Gash moved in opposite directions, severing contact with their eyes. Gash’s body was cleanly shaven. Variously coloured tattoos were imprinted throughout his body. It may well have been a trait of those who lived in the remote regions, or possibly done for appeal when he was marketed as a sword-slave. In terms of physique and appearance, he was similar to Verne, whom Orba fought back at Ba Roux. What differed him from Verne was the way he smacked his crimson tongue across his lips. He held a glint of unlevelled cruelty.

Now they would get on dragonback with the Baians This too was likened after the hero Clovis, who fought on the battlefield saddled on a dragon.

Orba had little experience riding a dragon.

What’s worse is—

Orba gazed up at the Baian beside him without finis.h.i.+ng his thoughts. He was unable to hold back his feelings of unrest thinking about the fight that was about to follow. It wasn’t only because he was unfamiliar with riding on a dragon’s back. It was because he did not plan only to win.

On the signal, both of them saddled onto their Baians. After settling himself onto the saddle, he stuck his feet into the stirrup, and took two different spears from the guard into his hand. The first was a dragon lance, a ten-metre long hilted lance. This lance bolstered a considerable weight, such that while riders readied themselves, the spear would be tucked under their arms and fixed onto the saddle ring to the side. The other spear was an ordinary one, two metres long. And strapped on his other hand was a small buckler.

“Begin!”

In accordance to the command, several sword slaves released the chains wound around the dragons’ legs and neck. Orba’s Baian gave off a roar that flipped one of the slaves off his feet.

“Charge!”

On the other end, Gash sprawled down against his dragon as it began its charge.

Orba struggled to a.s.sert control over his dragon. The Baian stood on its hind legs, and even now was trying to shake him off. Even as...o...b.. tried to rein in his dragon, Gash headed straight for him. No longer having enough time to dodge the a.s.sault, Orba decidedly laid his body down and clung tightly to the dragon’s back. In an instant, his body suffered a blow as if struck by a giant fist. He could feel his bones cracking beneath his skin, and his clenched molars seemed ready to snap off at any moment.

Naturally, Gash, having initiated the charge, was quick to recover. He whirled up the tip of his dragon lance that had grazed the flank of the dragon carrying Orba, and on distracting Orba, struck with his other spear.

Orba managed to repel it with his s.h.i.+eld. His attack foiled, Gash endeavoured to gain one point in his favour. However, his dragon thrashed its body furiously causing him to lose his stance.

“Tch.”

His Baian swung its claws and tail, and shook its neck as if it wanted to sink its fangs into the opponent’s throat. Orba and Gash both exchanged a blow with their spears. They were in a scenario akin to fighting on a boat floating on a turbulent sea, where the best tactic was to sweep the opponent off his dragon instead of taking the enemy’s head. However, this discrepancy came as all but nigh as their lances clashed time and time again. Based on the sole premise that he survived up to now, Gash was greatly skilled. He was also experienced in handling dragons. And the dragon given to him was one ‘thoroughly’ trained, whereas a single lapse in judgment by Orba would lead to his death.

Orba frantically clung to his Baian regardless and while focusing wholeheartedly on defence,

“That’s all you’ve got?” he barked.

“Gash, killer of a hundred men, you’re not fit to don the helmet of Clovis. The people also want you dead. Go f.u.c.kin’ die and feed yourself to the dragons[1].”

Gash dropped down from above, and he thrust up towards...o...b.. with his spear. Orba received the blow with his s.h.i.+eld while his body was being tossed back and forth.

Almost simultaneously, Orba’s Baian stretched out its neck. Gash pointed his dragon lance up towards the dragon about to bare its fangs. He waved his lance left and right after the dragon’s head.

“Kid,” Gash bellowed through his ground teeth. “You say that when you possess only this level of skill? I’ll have you eat those words!”

Gash kicked the side of his Baian, and once his dragon had pulled back, made a dash towards a corner of the ring. Blood pulsed violently throughout the muscles of the men and their dragons. Both sides had sustained countless wounds either from the opponent’s spear and the dragon’s fangs, or possibly both.

By the time Orba realised Gash’s intent to charge a second time, he was no longer able to have his dragon give chase. The distance was already a far cry away.

A gulp sank through Orba’s throat. Should he take on the next encounter or not?

Everyone in the arena watched in breathless silence, likely bearing that same thought.

Here it comes –

He raised up his dragon lance, and taking a confronting stance, gave a cry loud enough to split his iron mask.

On the other end,

“Eyyaaaa!”

Gash’s piercing voice reverberated through the air.

Lying face down, he began his charge. The light sent from the tip of dragon lance struck Orba’s Baian in the eye. For a second, the Baian tried to flee and Orba’s spear swerved.

“You fell for it!”

Just before the dragons collided a second time, Gash slipped his feet out of his stirrup. Orba, caught in the ensuing collision, was knocked off his dragon.

His back slammed against the ground. Gashed furiously swooped down on Orba, who for a moment lay limp like a lifeless doll.

Orba rolled on the hard ground and dodged it by a hair’s breadth. He quickly lifted his body up.

However, there was no weapon in Orba’s hands. He was still disoriented from the collision.

The dragons violently pit against one another behind him. Gash repeatedly delivered a series of attacks, under the veil of the clouds of dust.

Within the n.o.bles’ seating area, Vileena instinctively averted her eyes.

Though he wore a mask, it was possible to tell he was still dazed. His movements also appeared unsteady. Driven by a sudden impulse and forgetting she sat beside the emperor, Vileena’s mouth gaped open. As Gash’s spear was about to pierce through his mask,

“Orba!”

A voice roared down like thunder, projecting below the seating area and away from the gates.

Orba instantly opened his eyes and in a series of nimble movements, provokingly circled around the pursuing Gash. With each thrust of the spear, a blast of air struck against Orba’s mask. Blood ran down his neck and shoulders.

Soon after, Orba’s feet came to a halt. Seeing this chance, Gash diagonally lunged from a predictable location. It was easy to see through his projected path. Orba dodged his lunge, and while taking hold of the extended arm, kicked him in the knee and threw him forward.

It was already impossible to tell which dragon belonged to whom, but one of them had finally pinned down the other and was about to bite into it from above. The pinned down Baian struggled to push off the dragon and swung its tail, striking Gash in the chest.

Coughing up a spurt of blood, this time Gash was the one to stagger backwards. His variously coloured tattoos were dyed in a b.l.o.o.d.y red.

Orba picked up the spear that Gash had dropped on the ground. And showing no hesitation, he performed a single thrust into the heart.

A chill ran through Orba as he felt the spear make its mark. Blood splashed his mask as he pulled the spear out. For a short time, he stood still in silence, not wiping off the steaming blood off his mask.

The people encircled around the ring clapped their hands and stamped their feet, whilst Vileena collapsed onto her chair and heaved a big sigh of relief. She didn’t notice her breathing had stopped until just now.

“Vileena-sama, it’s about time you let go of my hand.”

Theresia said. She had unconsciously squeezed Theresia’s hand. Coming back to her senses, Vileena did as told, and saw a distinct red outline where she had been holding.

“It appears to be the princess’ win.”

As he said this, the emperor stood up from his seat. Rea.s.suring the frantic princess who also attempted to stand up to see him off, he said,

“Should you find something you desire, do not hesitate to say so. A Mephius emperor does not stray from an agreement.”

From a seat facing opposite them, “Oh?” Noue let out this single remark. He was not the least impressed by the situation at hand. Though he claimed himself an avid captive of the gladiator games when he spoke with Simon, he was a man who did not hold interest in anything except the art of conquest and warfare—or to be more precise, held no interest in anything where he could not employ his resourcefulness.

So his name was Gash. I’m fairly certain he was invited to partic.i.p.ate in the plan...Well, no matter. It’s not as if I require them to be skilful. With so much as the discharge of rebellion, the pus[2] collected within Mephius will catch fire and spread undeterred.”

However—Noue’s worries turned towards a different direction. Prince Gil was not present amongst the n.o.bles in the seating area opposite him. He had gone as far as come to Mephius to learn more about Gil. However, it was impossible even for Noue and his foresight to draw upon these fragments of knowledge with his seldom encounters with Gil. But that no longer mattered now. As long things went the way he imagined them and produced the results he desired here in the lands of this foreign country, it would attest that his ability of foresight had not rusted. As a result, Noue had lost most of his interest in Gil.

As...o...b.. made his way back to the gate, he pa.s.sed by Pas.h.i.+r, who would be partic.i.p.ating in the following match. Compared to last time, their positions now reversed. Moving forward in an unsteady gait, right before their shoulders met,

“Why?”

Orba asked.

“Why did you call out my name?”

“Ho? So you heard it.” Without slowing his pace, he continued, “Then it looks like I’ve successfully returned the favour.”

“Favour?”

“Not to you. To the one you serve, the prince.”

Not saying another word, Pas.h.i.+r headed in the direction where his battle would take place.