Volume 8 Chapter 6 (1/2)
At around that time, a great many people were gathered at Apta's dragon training ground.
Thick stakes were being driven one-by-one into the ground of that open s.p.a.ce. Each of the more than fifty stakes would soon be used to crucify[1] someone. The members of the prince's former Imperial Guards.
By the time Rogue Saian noticed the commotion, the preparations were already more than half complete. Odyne, who had been relaxing in his room, also caught wind of it and came rus.h.i.+ng along with him. The two of them had sternly questioned Nabarl about it, but Apta's current commander-in-chief coolly replied that,
”We will shortly be performing an execution here.”
”You've arbitrarily decided that on your own?”
”It will not be all of them. As His Majesty will want information, some of them will be spared. For the rest, it is a question of troop morale. With the present uproar, the soldiers were getting irritated that it was taking so long to be resolved. Public executing the pack that conspired with Taúlia to a.s.sa.s.sinate the prince will raise their spirits.”
The uproar was that a dragon handled by Hou Ran had mauled some of Nabarl's men to death. Rogue's expression grew bitter.
”When we asked her about it, she explained that it was protecting her. So far, there is no evidence that their connected with Taúlia. Are you not being overly-hasty?”
”Were there any witnesses who could support that woman's excuse? That's right, there were none. I believe my subordinates' report. If you were in my position, you would too.”
”However…”
”Besides which, are you calling for evidence? His Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince, was shot and lost his life. The Imperial Guards originally blamed that crime on General Oubary, however the general has already been released in Solon and His Majesty has declared that it was Taúlia's doing. General Saian, do not speak so thoughtlessly. Your words just now could be taken as direct criticism of His Majesty.”
The colour of blood rose to Rogue's face.
While arguing down the veteran general, Nabarl had been curt from beginning to end. In point of fact, the matter did not interest him. Executing the Imperial Guards was, after all, no more than something to be added to his justifications for having lost the battle, and was not something that would be particularly productive.
Before many more days had pa.s.sed, the troops of each of the twelve generals would probably be despatched to Apta and, if that happened, there was no guarantee that he would remain the supreme commander. Nabarl dearly wanted to lead another a.s.sault against Taúlia with his current military power. The execution was something like a ritual. It meant both wiping the slate clean of his defeat as well as stoking the soldiers up.
”I have lost my cherished soldiers,” Nabarl closed his eyes. ”There would have been a meaning to their lives being cut down on the battlefield, but instead they were mauled to death by a dragon being controlled by a female slave. How can I explain it to their families who are awaiting their return? Please do not try to stop me, Sir Rogue. As we are now, this is something which is necessary. There must certainly be an execution along with the dawn.”
When he was told that it would be at dawn, Rogue closed his mouth.
According to the letter, it was at about that time that Crown Prince Gil Mephius would arrive. This allowed Rogue to take a gamble.
If he comes, good. But if he doesn't…
”Do you believe it?” asked Odyne who was walking beside him after they had left Nabarl.
”Believe what?”
”What we were discussing.”
Rogue Saian had shown Odyne the letter that s.h.i.+que had delivered. His reaction had not been very different from Rogue's own. He had been surprised but not fl.u.s.tered. Nor had he stated what he intended to do with regards to it.
As they walked shoulder-to-shoulder, Odyne cautiously lowered his voice.
”Isn't it because you believe it that you backed down for the time being?”
”Well...”
Despite it being the dead of night, the figures of a mult.i.tude of people could be seen by the light of the fires that had been lit in the iron baskets all around the training grounds. They were there to watch the executions.
”What does 'well' mean?”
”I don't know. I don't know either. But… whether it's true or not, I'm grateful for that letter.”
”Grateful?” Odyne's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected words.
Rogue Saian smiled. ”It gave me the impetus to reach a decision.”
”Although I was dissatisfied with all sorts of things about Mephius' current state, I was not going to do anything about it. I made excuses about already being too old and that it was a job for the young. I didn't even realise it myself.” As they walked, Rogue narrowed his eyes as though he was looking at something dazzling. ”And so, without that letter, I too might have led my men over the border with Taúlia in the end. But thanks to it - and whether I believe it or not is separate matter - I decided to wait the three days as a Mephian warrior. And I will give my answer having thought about it as a warrior. I was made to realise it… Odyne, if at dawn the prince does not appear, then…”
”Then?”
”I will stop the execution. Even if I have to strike down Nabarl himself.”
”General!”
As though expecting to suddenly be shot at, Odyne cautiously swept his gaze around their surroundings. There were several soldiers standing sentry nearby but those words did not appear to have reached them. Rogue himself was still smiling.
”As long as there is life left within me, I will not let a single soldier cross the border. His Majesty will naturally be furious. But I am proud of belonging to the Saian House and we have supported the country as Mephian warriors from generation to generation. If that self-same Saian House demonstrates its military power for the last time, even His Majesty will become conscious of something.”
”Sir Rogue…”
”You are young. You do not need to follow me. For me, my men are like my family. They are of the same mind as me. But I do not intend to involve any but my family in this.”
”Even I…” Odyne was about to declare that he shared the same will, but stopped just short. No matter how much antipathy he felt towards the emperor, who was so lacking in righteousness, if he aligned himself with Rogue's actions, then not only would he himself be in danger, but his family back in Solon would be too. The way Rogue had clearly spoken of his ”family”... in other words, he was prepared to sacrifice them.
Odyne's breath was taken away when thinking of his own hesitations compared to the depth of the veteran general's resolve.
Perhaps because he noticed Odyne's thoughts, Rogue laughed cheerfully. ”Before this, we were not particularly close, but I am glad to have made a friend after coming here. But you will live. If all those who share this same heart are killed in action, Mephius will be covered in even greater darkness than it is now. So you will live. I want you to live and endure as you bide your time. Then maybe, if there are any who feel that my actions held some righteousness, you will be able to win them over to your side. Even one would count as a victory.”
Rogue's face was calm as he explained a plan that worked on the premise of his own death. Perhaps he was feeling brighter now that he had gotten all that off his chest, as Rogue's face looked refreshed while he thumped Odyne on the shoulder.
”Mephius' future is bright. Don't you think so? Right, this evening, let's drink together. I won't let you say no. The men are kicking up a ruckus while they wait too. Right, let's go.”
The two generals left the training grounds behind them.
When Odyne fleetingly looked back, he felt as though the stakes illuminated by the fires were like the gravestones for Mephius itself, and shuddered.
Seven figures on horseback raced on, torches held aloft. They had left from Taúlia.
Because these were times of war, units like these could be seen patrolling far and wide, even away from the cities. The soldiers were not only from Taúlia but also from Helio, Kadyne or Cherik.
Orba's face was concealed beneath his hood. He went unnoticed.
Although on the way they would stop by an airs.h.i.+p relay base that also doubled as a camp for the guards, it would still take two days to reach the border. And near Apta there was the River Yunos as well.
The group was mostly silent as they sped their horses onwards.
There was a lot to think about. The Taúlian soldiers had not been informed at all about what Orba was planning on doing; while Orba had the strong impression that he was riding hard along a road that he would never be able to turn back along, exactly as though he were racing along a bridge that was burning behind him.
And yet, he was not plunged into regret.
It's a fight. A fight.
As proof of that, his blood was stirring.
The enemy is colossal.
Although he had gone through battle after battle, the enemy was much larger this time. So in order to fight against it, he would also have to be large.
One by one, he mentally went over the processes to achieve that. However there was not a single thing among them that he took for granted. He could only think of the many pitfalls that laid along the path ahead.
Even that feeling of tension currently felt good to Orba.
The die has been cast. He was no longer wavering between this and that. Orba was never so lively as when he had reached the stage where there was nothing to do next but take action.
A day pa.s.sed by as they went by the site the had been turned into a battlefield not long ago.
They took a nap at the relay's barracks then immediately left again. There were, of course, only men at that camp, but there had been an exception only about a week earlier. Someone who had also been a foreigner. But Orba did not know that.
As the day was dying and they were riding fast through the dusk -
”Oi, over there,” said one of the Taúlian soldiers.
When they looked, it seemed as if flames were rising from the side. Because it was in the same direction as the setting sun, they had not been noticeable before, but now that the burning rays of sunlight had dimmed, the riders could see the flame's light.
Upon asking, it seemed that there was a small village in that direction. The soldiers began to make a stir.
The b”It can't be an attack by Mephian forces?”
”There was no news about them crossing the border.”
”Could the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds have sneaked up on the border guards?”
Each of them pulled on their reins and brought their horses to a standstill. Orba was no exception.
A village is being attacked.
His expression had changed under his hood. In his mind he saw flames rising from every house and people running between them, trying to escape. An army troop clad in black from head to toe chased after them. The screaming women and children who were crushed under the horses' hooves, the young men whose heads were sent flying when tried to resist - one by one the images flashed by then faded. That time from his own childhood had overlapped with the present.
”What do we do?”
The Taúlian soldiers started a discussion in front of Orba.
”If it really is Mephian troops, it'll be impossible to get any closer to the border.”
”Let's return to the camp. We can notify Taúlia with the airs.h.i.+ps there.”
”First things first, I'll go check the situation. The rest of you stay here on standby and…”
The outcome was that the group would be split into three. Two would go towards the village to act as scouts and two more would return to the camp. The remaining three, Orba included, would stay where they were on standby, but -
”No,” Orba shook his head. ”We'll get as close as we can to the border.”
”What?”
The Taúlian soldiers were aghast. Orba was already urging his horse onwards. At the sight of his arrogant behaviour, the youngest soldier in the group snarled.
”You're just going to be jumping into the enemy's arms. Mephius has already forded the Yunos.”
”There's no time.”
”Time. Time for what? We haven't been told anything. Even if it doesn't matter to you, that's one of our villages over there. That's…”
”If you're not coming then do whatever you want. I'm going ahead,” Orba flung at him and whipped his horse.
Leaving the soldiers behind, he travelled steadily forward. Under the swaying hood, his eyes gleamed sharply. He did not want to abandon the village either. He too was worried that Mephius might be occupying the border, but that was even more so a reason to hurry onwards.
On the other hand, the leader of the Taúlian soldiers he had left behind reached a decision.
”At any rate, we need to check the situation at the border.”
After giving each group, one heading towards the village and the other returning to camp, their respective orders, he then, with the youngest soldier in tow, chased after Orba.
”Tsk,” the young soldier reluctantly made his horse move its legs.
Orba was not going to look back.
A gunshot resounded in his ears.
It was not from some far off direction - in other words, it was not from the village. It was from close by.
He grabbed the sword at his waist.
A number of figures had suddenly jumped out from the side of the road.
A gunshot.
At the same time, Kiril leapt backwards.
”Don't move.”
His smoking gun muzzle firmly fixed on Kiril, Rone Jayce walked towards him. They faced each other with the princess and Layla between them.
”Forget it.”
As he spoke, Kiril once again swept his arm in a wide movement. From it, a black shadow shot through the air. Rone instinctively stepped back and it flew over his head. Having seen it pa.s.s by, Rone was about to angrily pull the trigger when,
”Duck!” Vileena cried out in the same instant.
He realised just in time what the weapon that had been about to end his life was doing. His warrior instincts sprang back to life at the sharpness of that voice. He was originally a man who had sufficient enough skills to be chosen as one of the emperor's own Imperial Guards. When Rone stooped, Kiril launched himself and broke into a run.
Rone adjusted the gun's aim, but was too late.
A kick from Kiril's long legs sent the weapon flying. Then, using the recoil from his action to whirl like an acrobat, he caught the boomerang in mid-air.
He landed behind Rone. At almost the same moment as the former Imperial Guard released the glint of a blade at his waist, Kiril swung the dagger he held in one hand, aiming for Rone's back in the same movement. With a timing that was almost artistic, the swords collided.
Sparks flew.
Both turned towards the other. Their faces were close. They exerted their strength to break that balance. Rone had the advantage in both weapon and physique. He gradually overwhelmed Kiril with brute force.
Suddenly, Rone pitched forward. Kiril immediately relaxed his strength and crouched down, pivoted on his right foot and, as Rone started stumbling, tripped him to the ground.
”Father!”
His daughter's voice ringing in his ears, Rone quickly rolled over as a blade drove after him. Twice, thrice, he narrowly dodged it but Kiril's movements were ruthlessly precise and on the third time, the blade cornered him into a position from which he could no longer avoid it.
”Wait.”
Vileena.
Without anyone realising it, she had picked up the gun that had been kicked out of Rone's hand and was standing to their side.
Kiril did not falter for a second. His sword swung down towards Rone's neck.
”Guh!”
He cried out like a bird of ill-omen and staggered back. A cloud of dust rose from the ground. The tip of his feet had almost been blown through.
Having fired the shot, Vileena narrowed the distance between them and once more put herself at the ready. Kiril's eyes filled with surprised admiration.
”You actually did it, Princess.”
”You called me 'Princess'? Judging by your behaviour, you know who I am?”
”Of course. The third princess of Garbera, Vileena Owell. An exalted existence, the like of which there is no second in this world.”
When he formally announced her name, Rone and Layla gasped. Vileena however had no attention to spare for them. Her heart was pounding. The stench of gunpowder filled her nose to the point of bringing tears to her eyes.
Abiding by her grandfather's instructions, and so as to be able to protect herself, Vileena had not failed to continue gun practice, but this was of course the first time she had shot at a human.
”Hmm,” nevertheless, she raised her slender chin and her manner remained haughty to the last, ”if you have business with me, then it has nothing to do with the villagers. Why did you do something like this?”
”For the sake of achieving my goal, I could not afford to choose my means...” Kiril's expression fleetingly turned sorrowful but, ”...that would be a lie. I did it because it was fun.”
”Fun?”
”Having gone out of our way to come this far, it would be boring if the only prey were small-fry Taúlian soldiers. If the battle isn't a maelstrom of screams and blood, the ether that humans release before dying won't be refined.”
White-hot anger flared in Vileena's eyes. From the corner of her eye, she saw the tumbling corpse of a man who had been pierced in the abdomen by a Mephian soldier. While the youth whose arm had been cut off, and who was even now faint with agony, was certainly the one called Lennus who had given flowers to Layla.
”Scoundrel.” Vileena voice sounded as though it could have cut him down. ”Don't move. If you value your life, throw down your weapon and surrender with your companions.”
”Since I don't value it, I'll be resisting you on that.”
Kiril gave a wicked smile and flung the boomerang in a swift movement. Startled, Vileena s.h.i.+fted her eyes left and right and in that instant, Kiril broke into a sprint. Moving as fast as though he were flying, he cut down the distance in a heartbeat. When the princess realised it, she lifted the gun in front of her but it was too late. Kiril slammed his fist into her abdomen.
Vileena wordlessly crumpled to her knees. For a second, it felt as though all the oxygen had been s.n.a.t.c.hed from her body. Kiril easily grabbed the gun from her shaking hands.
”You should pay close attention. There won't be a second sacrifice as n.o.ble as you. To enhance the quality, I'll have you hate and despair even more.” Kiril licked his lips.
At precisely that moment, a Taúlian soldier raised his sword behind Kiril and aimed for him but the weapon that Kiril had thrown some time earlier came back, tearing through the wind, and hit the soldier, who was only a few steps behind him, in the back of his neck
Unconcerned by the blood that was gus.h.i.+ng like a raging waterfall, Kiril smoothly pulled it out. Like a doll that had been tossed away, the soldier fell to the ground.
His victim's blood smeared on him like makeup, Kiril once more turned his eyes towards the Jayce father and child.
”Stay away!” Rone shouted, but not to Kiril. To his wife who, her face pale, was about to run to them. He himself stood to face Kiril, sword in hand.
Vileena could barely keep the two of them in sight. It was hard to breathe. Black shadows hung from her eyelids and if her consciousness slipped just a little bit more, the two figures would be engulfed in a wave of darkness. As a voice whispered to her that it would be more comfortable that way, she gritted her teeth and rejected it.
d.a.m.n it! - The resentful curses that the Garberan soldiers had sometimes spoken echoed in Vileena's heart.
Even though she was doing her utmost to stay conscious, she could not freely lift so much as a single finger. Unaware that drool was coming from her mouth and that her eyes were overflowing with tears, Garbera's third princess cursed her own powerlessness as she was unable to even move.
Always... always… At times like these, she was made to realise what an insignificant existence she was, good only to be knocked around without being able to do anything.
As the distance between the two narrowed, the feeling of oppression coming from the fire seemed to increase. Rone was on the verge of swinging his sword. But not because he was seizing an opening but because he could no longer bear the tension - in other words, Kiril had made him move. Even Vileena, an amateur, could see it. And just as she had imagined, Rone moved in a straight line which Kiril was easily able to dodge before burying his right hand into Rone's abdomen.
”Guh!”
A dagger stabbed deep into his belly, Rone grunted as he started to topple backwards. Kiril moved to hug his body close to prevent that from happening. Screams from Rone's wife and child echoed.
”Stop!”
The voice that only barely sprang from Vileena's lips pierced Kiril's ears more keenly than any other. He turned around with a somewhat surprised expression. In that time, Rone's body collapsed.
”My. You still have courage enough to speak.” Though Kiril's eyes were once again filled with admiration, strange words followed. ”Such a waste. Such a high-quality existence should be kept to milk ether or be of use to Lord Garda. It really is a waste, but it's an order, so there's no help for it.”
”What are you…”
”Well, be sure to shed tears of blood as you watch in frustration.” Kiril turned his back to Vileena. His complete disinterest stoked the fire of her anger.
However, a black curtain had already more than half fallen over her consciousness. Her entire body had gone numb and in a few more seconds, she would no longer be able to speak and would fall unconscious.
Is a woman this powerless? Away from the protection of the soldiers and the people, is the royal family this insignificant?
She remembered that night. Wandering along the mountain path while being afraid of the dark. The Jayce family had saved her from that. She had learned that even though she was royalty, if she took just a single step out of their territory, no, out of the area that she herself knew, she was reduced to this powerlessness.
Although light from the fires should have been illuminating her surroundings, at some point, the sky that stretched out over her head had become incredibly dark. There was not the faintest glimmer of hope in that ink-black sky she gazed up at. As the fear from that time came back to her, she lost the strength to cling to the present.
I am... the royal family is…
Even as her soul was about to be consumed by the night, Vileena asked herself until the very last moment.
The royal family is - yes, it's a ”light”.
A scene suddenly flashed through Vileena's consciousness. At Zaim Fortress, when she was facing the gallant young general, Ryucown. Vileena herself had said that to the man who's overwhelming grief for his country had driven him to violence.
”The royal family is not the cornerstone of a country. The sense of pride in the retainers and the people is the same - you can find the same light in that nation.”
Because of that…
She had wanted to become stronger. She had wanted to become a cornerstone for the royal family. The people and the va.s.sals each had different concepts of happiness but hope was something they could share. The close future was something they could imagine.
It was just after the battle at Zaim had ended - as she could still hear the groans of the injured, the weeping of the Garberan soldiers, and also the ragged breathing of the masked swordsman Orba who had killed Ryucown - that Vileena Owell had thought that she wanted to become a ”light” similar to those guiding principles.
That's right, even though I myself am small and powerless…
Vileena exerted the last of her strength. She let out the last of the air in her lungs and, not caring that she might lose consciousness or even her life because of it, she opened her mouth.
”Somebody,” she cried. ”Is anybody there? Is there anyone to defeat these scoundrels and protect the n.o.ble blood of Garbera's royal family? Hurry... hurry...”
The only answer was Kiril's loud laughter. ”Splendid. If royalty such as yourself gives the order, will your loyal subjects come running even from the ends of the earth? You truly have a splendid att.i.tude.”
Vileena continued without paying him any attention.
”Is anybody there? Is there no hero to answer Vileena Owell's voice? If there is someone here - someone that I do not know or cannot see, even someone who is currently fighting against us - who is willing to quickly lift up their sword; I, Princess Vileena, will praise you as a hero!”
Her sight was already virtually covered up. Vileena's mouth shut and her consciousness was almost gone.
Kiril drew up towards the screaming and crying Layla. Rone's wife rushed to protect her but he thrust her away with a simple ”later.”
He lifted the wet, red blade.
”Somebody…”
Her voice husky, Vileena called out to the end as her eyelids closed.
Kiril continued to laugh loudly. For him, the 'ceremony' was reaching its peak and he could feel the highly-concentrated ether against his skin.
He was about to stab his blade with all his strength.
There was a loud neighing sound.
A black wind blew to Vileena's side.
It blew up to Kiril. Just as it was about to collide into him, the figure of a man on horseback was reflected in Vileena's eyes. The astounded Kiril leapt to the side and narrowly avoided the horseman's charge.
”b.a.s.t.a.r.d!” He yelled unintentionally as his opponent was neither a Taúlian soldier nor, obviously, a Mephian one.
He wore an iron mask.
It can't be - he had thought but there was no doubt.
It was unmistakably the Garberan princess, Vileena Owell. who lay collapsed, casting a dark shadow on the ground that was illuminated by the fire.
Initially, Orba was going to ride by the village without stopping. Even if Mephian soldiers were running amok, he judged that his first priority was to hurry towards Apta and halt the enemy advance.
But as he was about to leave the village behind, he had run into Zerdians fleeing from it. They were Kiril's subordinates who had been the first to shoot at the search party in an attempt to divide the enemy. Chasing immediately behind them were Taúlian soldiers.
The ones appointed to escort Orba recognised them as comrades and helped them drive away the Zerdians.
”What's going on?” asked the escorts.
”We found the Garberan princess,” answered the soldiers from the search party.
While Orba was still doubting his own ears, they rapidly explained the situation. He realised that they had been tricked by the enemy into splitting up. He had no memory of what had happened after that. By the time he noticed it, he was lying low on his horse's neck as it galloped on. Because it was impeding the run, he flung off his hooded cloak.
Every time the horse's hooves drilled holes into the ground's surface, sending earth and sand flying, he got closer to the din from the village and the heat of the fire. And along with that, feelings that were hard to describe were raging darkly through Orba's chest.
And now - Vileena lay collapsed.
It was a relations.h.i.+p that he had once severed.
From the moment he had cast his mortal enemy, Oubary, into the flames, Orba had decided to abandon his false face. But not only his face. Among the many things that he had thrown aside, there was also the princess from Garbera. Now they had met again in another small village where sparks were flying. Orba's loudly throbbing heart pounded.
Kiril, for his part, had already recovered his stance after the sudden charge. Seeing that his enemy's attention was momentarily turned away from him, he threw the boomerang.
Coming back to himself, Orba instinctively made to cut it down. However, it soared far above the range of his sword. He urged his horse onwards without paying it any further heed. A smile appeared on Kiril's face. As though guided by the enemy, it turned and started to hurtle towards...o...b..'s back. The enemy was drawing close. And the shadow of death chased right behind him.
The hair at the back of Orba's neck stood on end.
A sign.
Back when he had been a gladiator, Orba had often felt that sign of death, and he had learned to trust himself to that instinct. He pulled his foot from the stirrup and leapt at once. And looked beneath him.
Humming as it spun, the weapon swept beneath his feet and hit the horse's neck. It cut halfway through the flesh. With a pitiful neigh, the horse lost its balance and pitched forward.
Orba landed on the ground and, with his sword in his right hand, he moved to attack Kiril once again.
Kiril had absolutely not expected him to vault off but, as though he too were compelled by instinct, he dodged out of the way. He did so with a combination of cartwheels and somersaults and twice, thrice, Orba's sword sliced through the air. His acrobatic fighting style was different from any other enemy Orba had ever faced.
While dodging for a fourth time, Kiril attempted a counter-attack with his dagger. Orba nimbly pulled back but, in a complete turn-around, this time it was Kiril's attacks that did not halt. Kicking the ground left and right, he rained down violent blows. It was difficult for Orba to read his rhythm. Just when he was considering attacking downwards from the side to make use of his long reach, Kiril held his elbows tight to his flank and fired off a short stroke like he would an arrow. Moreover, his back was bent or in the middle of a cartwheel, Kiril easily released his blows while in the most unbelievable positions.
Wildly.
From above, from below, from the right, from the left - his movements were devoid of sense for a swordsman. Nor could Orba seize an opening to counter-attack and he could only dodge the swooping sword.
”Ah!” The tip of the dagger just got in and sliced a vertical tear in Orba's tunic.
Sensing victory, Kiril's eyes gleamed white. He made a movement with his right hand and launched himself from the ground with particular strength.
He attacked as he leapt, but Orba was narrowly able to avoid it.
”Unh,” Kiril made a slightly uneasy sound.
The b.a.s.t.a.r.d's gotten used to it - was the sentiment that appeared on his face. While intently dodging his blows, Orba's body had memorised his opponent's fighting style or, in other words, his unique rhythm. As proof of that, he was gradually able to push back Kiril's sword.
A ma.s.s of steel sliced through right above Kiril's head.
”s.h.i.+t!”
He dodged the next attack by doing a back flip and drew another boomerang from at his waist. Seeing that, Orba tried to cut the distance between them but Kiril broke free and widened it. He raised the weapon high.
”I won't aim for you,” he grinned broadly. Unconcerned, Orba was about to rush at him sword in hand but - ”I'll slice that woman's head off.”
Kiril threw the boomerang. Realising the meaning of his words, Orba suddenly came to a stop. He then simultaneously swung his body around while racing in the opposite direction from Kiril.
This time, it was Kiril who chased after Orba.