Vol 11 Prologue (1/2)

Chapter Prologue

Kaseria Jamil had been fighting back yawns for a while now.

The voices of the priests chanting in prayer reverberated throughout the inside of the cave. This was a ceremony held before going to war. All of Allion’s officers and men who were summoned to it must keep their eyes closed and their hands joined before their waists.

The cave gave into an underground pa.s.sageway connected to the sea and, even where Kaseria stood, his feet were wet from the waves that rolled in. The red flames from the pine torches were reflected on the sea’s surface, where a number of golden boats bobbed and swayed. This was a ceremony not only to pray for victory, but also for safety at sea. The priests were conscientiously reciting one-by-one the long list of names of every spirit that dwelt in the gold, steel and wood that had been used to construct the boats.

Looks like it’s going to keep dragging on. Kaseria had lost count of how many times already he had desperately bit back his yawns. All the spirits of Allion, even the ones living in the tiniest grains of sand, all love war. If you really want to please them, it’d be much better to have our braves board the s.h.i.+ps, slaughter the enemy soldiers, and consecrate their red and bleeding hearts to the spirits.

Kaseria would be twenty-two this year. He was tall and lean with a fair complexion. With his elegant features, he looked like a young man who would be perfectly at home playing music or reciting poetry in the royal court of Allion. In fact, and although Kaseria did have that side to him, what stimulated him from the bottom of his heart was not the splendour of court life but its very opposite: the battlefield, where the sound of gunshots flew and steel collided to devour lives.

Allion was a country which did not lack for wars. So much so that if one were to peruse the past twenty years of its history, it would be difficult to find any part of it that did not involve some description of battle. In that sense, Kaseria, the first-born son of its war-loving – slaughter and destruction-loving – king was undoubtedly a heaven-sent child for Allion.

There was nothing more tedious than this ceremony, but he was able to endure it by thinking that beyond it lay that moment of ecstasy.

Still, his concentration was apt to wander. From time to time, Kaseria would half open his eyes. In front of the anch.o.r.ed, golden war boats, an equal number of priestesses stood side-by-side. They chanted the prayers in time to the priests but the cylindrical robes they wore were of thin cloth and, since they had immersed themselves in the sea before the ceremony, their skin showed faintly through them.

Kaseria and his men stood behind them. Which meant that Kaseria was able to admire to his heart’s content the row of the priestesses’ backsides before him. That one on the right is a bit small, but the shape is nice. I’d like to rub those cheeks on the left together, but they look kind of heavy? The a.s.s with the best balance of proportions is the one right in the middle. But that really visible bruise on it bothers me. Well then…

“See anything you like?” Someone stealthily whispered in his ear.

For a second, Kaseria’s eyes opened wide before he immediately lowered his eyelids.

“Lance, what are you doing talking in the middle of a ceremony? It’s an insult to the spirits,” he replied in a low voice. “You’ll incur their wrath. The wars.h.i.+ps will be caught in storms along the way, or the wind will only blow from behind the enemy and flames will spread throughout our camp. Ah, so scary. Now, hurry up and close your eyes, and mentally recite a charm to calm the spirits.”

“The spirits will get angry? Good. At least that will make the war interesting.” The man with an eye-patch over his left eye – Lance

Mazpotter – chuckled.

He was more than thirty years older than Kaseria. Perhaps that was why his manner of speaking was somewhat irreverent, even towards his lord and prince.

“But you really did something stupid, taking advantage of a family quarrel in Ende to move the army.”

In fact, he even went as far as calling him stupid.

Kaseria Jamil used to be known as “Allion’s Little Tyrant”. This was not, contrary to what was now said in various countries, on account of his quick and decisive tactics. In the first place, Kaseria had been called that long before his first campaign, and besides, it was not an affectionate nickname given to their young future ruler by those closest to him.

If something displeased him even slightly, he would scream, cry and behave violently. If it had just been that, it could still have pa.s.sed as charming proof that he “shows all the signs of valour”. In his case though, it went beyond that. He would tell his father things like, “that retainer didn’t give way to me,” or “he didn’t greet me,” then demand they be put to death.

For better or for worse, the king of Allion was particularly indulgent towards his first-born son. Although naturally, he did not go as far as sentencing them to death as the boy wanted, he would still expressly summon even his chief retainers between audiences and have them apologise before his son.

And thus, Kaseria became “Allion’s Little Tyrant”, and continued to be called by that nickname until he was thirteen. It was when he was thirteen, exactly at the time of the fall of Atall – a country north of Allion – that Lance Mazpotter, known then as the “One-Eyed Dragon of Atall”, entered the service of the Royal House of Jamil.

“What are you on about? I’m just obeying Father’s orders.”

“Don’t play dumb at this point. the king didn’t have the slightest interest in this. Apart from anything else, there’s only just been that affair with the Dytiann princess. the king is gradually turning his attention away from the outside and concentrating his energy on ruling the inside of the country.”

the prince of Allion and the veteran commander who know served that same Allion – which had once destroyed his own country – as one of its most famous generals, exchanged whispers with one another.

“To see what is right and not act upon it is a want of courage[1],” Kaseria p.r.o.nounced with a triumphant air. “Just like Allion, Ende is a country descended from the Magic Dynasty. Even though we are geographically apart, it is our fate and destiny to one day be united under the same flag. To turn away from the opportunity before us would be sheer folly.”

“Oh?”

“Furthermore, the relations between the three countries at the centre of the continent seem to be unstable. Ende and Garbera only just crossed spears, and even Mephius, which took Ende’s part in that conflict, is being rocked by a foolish civil war.”

“I see. I’ve heard that somewhere before already. Now, where was it? Oh right, I said it myself.”

The One-Eyed Dragon of Atall laughed soundlessly. Although he was over fifty years of age, his burly frame clad in chainmail gave off an invisible energy and boasted such an imposing appearance that even his allies found him hard to approach. Compared to him, Kaseria looked as slender as a woman.

“And that’s why I thought it would earn your approval, Lance, but alas...”

“Quit it with the pretentious talk. This is just your usual bad habit coming out again.”

“My bad habit?”

“Others have been saying that although you used to be highly-strung, you’ve become surprisingly adult-like these past few years. Back when I first met you, you didn’t like the look on my face and kicked me, and then when I responded by spanking you, you bawled to your father to have my head chopped off. Well, deep down, you haven’t changed at all since then. When the affair with the Dytian princess happened, you’d gone off to the countryside to meet some woman and couldn’t take part in it.”

“…”