Akatsuki Translations

The furious roars of the bloodthirsty men resembled the bellows of starving beasts.

Defeated in battle and unable to find a place to die, the captured enemy soldiers, their hands bound behind their backs and ropes around their necks, walked through the courtyard of the Uzumi Castle in a line like livestock awaiting slaughter.

As the miserable procession of captive soldiers continued, a voice called out to halt them.

The owner of the voice thrust a sword into the center of the group, drawing a line and tersely declaring, “This is as far as you go.”

It was a death sentence.

Those in front of the line were sentenced to execution on the spot.

Some immediately began to resist like madmen, while others, with the demeanor of resigned statues, simply waited quietly for the fate that awaited them.

At this point, there was little difference between the two. The only distinction was that the former slightly hastened the fate that befell them. If there was any difference, it was only to that extent.

Stalwart warriors and young squires, their faces still bearing the traces of youth, received spears to their vitals and met their end.

However, even in the face of this vivid and one-sided slaughter, Shuou did not feel the slightest bit of fortune for being behind the drawn line.

The sharp line of the sword drawn across the neck. The red mist spurting from it. The eerie sound of the throat frothing.

Closing his eyelids was meaningless; the numerous bloody deeds committed in the heat of the moment invaded his tranquil thoughts like seared memories.

Shuou was thrown into the underground dungeon inside the fortress along with the other captives. He sat with his face buried in his knees, his eyes tightly shut.

Time had passed since that fierce battle, and outside, it was already beginning to grow dark.

Abandoned by his allies and having thrown down his sword, he had not properly seen the faces of his comrades since. He had no clear grasp of who had survived.

He had simply kept his eyes forward, cutting down those who attacked him. Pushed onward, he found himself in a prison cell before he knew it.

Even with his knees hugged and his eyes closed, his consciousness was frighteningly clear. However, his thoughts had vanished, leaving a blank white void, and the sensation of falling, along with the memory of having killed people, dominated his weary body.

It was an unfamiliar sensation within the experiences of his life thus far.

It was different from the discomfort of killing one’s own kind. It was merely an act of hunting for sustenance, but it was clearly distinct from the feeling of killing an animal.

His ears, which could not be laid flat, incessantly picked up the sounds around him. In particular, the sighs of the defeated soldiers, crammed excessively into the stagnant room, caught his attention.

Amidst this, a familiar voice suddenly spoke.

“It’s all his fault!”

Instantly, the air in the room fell dead silent, the noise abruptly ceasing.

“Stop it, Hario…”

The voice that tried to stop the speaker was also familiar to Shuou.

“Stop? Why is everyone keeping quiet? You all know it too, don’t you? It’s because this guy went ahead on his own that we ended up isolated in the middle of the enemy camp. Right? Huh? Am I wrong? Hey, are you listening, Shuou?”

“Hey, if you don’t shut up already—”

The rusted prison door creaked open, and the commotion that had begun to brew in the dungeon subsided once more.

“I’m looking for someone. A young man with whitish hair. There are testimonies that he killed many Stellar Knights, and the Commanding General himself has issued an order for his appearance. If he’s in here, step forward now. It’s a distinctive feature among you lot; it’s useless to try and hide.”

At those words, the prison was filled with murmurs. However, someone immediately shouted in a voice like a bear’s.

“I don’t know anyone like that.”

It was another familiar voice, thick and carrying well.

“Silence! Who said you could stand? Get on your knees, now! The rest of you, line up in a row and put your hands on the wall!”

“Okay, okay. I’m the one who did it. I beat to death about ten of those Stellar Knight scum who smelled like shit.”

“You? …No, don’t lie. That’s too far from the testimony.”

“You wouldn’t know, would you? I came forward on my own, what more complaints do you have? Take me away. I don’t care if it’s the Commanding General or some gruel, I’ll spit my noble saliva on their face.”

“Why you… Fine, take him away! The reporter will be able to tell if he’s lying. If he is—”

Shuou lifted his face, which had been buried in his knees, and abruptly stood up.

“It’s me.”

As he spoke with wide eyes, the people crammed into the dimly lit prison all fixed their gazes on him at once. It was then that he finally realized how many familiar faces were in this room. Old man Jin, the men of the 55th squad under his charge, Borge and the men of the squad he led—all were safe. Among them were the two men Shuou had scolded the other day, and Hario was staring at him with a bony face and a barbed gaze.

Shuou stepped forward of his own accord and stood before Borge, who was standing ramrod straight, almost pressing against the Coral soldiers.

“Hey!”

Shuou spoke in a harsh tone to Borge, who was still trying to hold him back.

“You have people waiting for you to return. Don’t do anything rash.”

“Do you understand what will happen to you if you say that? They won’t show any mercy to those from the North.”

In front of Borge, who was desperately trying to explain, Shuou felt an out-of-place sense of joy. His rugged face, etched with wrinkles, was saying that he was genuinely concerned for Shuou’s well-being.

Shuou forced a stiff smile on his tense face.

“—I’m going.”

With his hands tightly bound and a sword thrust into his waist, Shuou left the dungeon, leaving his comrades behind.

*

“Damn it!”

Ba Ryouki tore off his sweat-soaked helmet and spat out those words in a resentful tone.

As he strode through the Uzumi Castle with long strides, the respectful gazes and voices of praise sent his way by those around him were nothing but noise to him now.

Libi and Shara hurried after him from behind. Ba Ryouki charged into the borrowed room in the fortress and kicked over the furniture and furnishings, creating a grand commotion.

“Uncle, please calm down!”

Libi pleaded for composure from his hot-blooded uncle.

“How can I be calm? Despite winning such a great victory against Murakumo, there was no pursuit at all!”

At the end of the battle, when the overwhelmingly disadvantaged Murakumo began to retreat, the command issued from headquarters was a spineless one, telling them not to pursue and to quickly withdraw.

The Coral army, having lost only a small portion of its forces and leaving many of its Stellar Knight artillery units unscathed, had a good chance of pursuing the fleeing Murakumo, assaulting their fortress, and capturing it. Even if they were wary of a counterattack, there was room to at least attempt it. After all, the enemy was the enemy. Such an opportunity could be said to come only once in a thousand years.

“But Coral must have its own circumstances.”

Libi spoke as if defending Coral, but Ba Ryouki knew everything.

A Zan, the Commanding General of the Uzumi Castle who had commanded the entire army, refused to grant an audience to Ba Ryouki, the hero of this battle, despite his repeated requests. This was the clearest evidence that he harbored a guilty conscience about the outcome of the matter.

“It was from the beginning. Lord A Zan had everything accounted for and prepared for this battle,” Ba Ryouki said.

“What do you mean by that?” Shara, who had followed them into the room, asked in response to Ba Ryouki’s words. She stood there in her battle attire, splattered with blood.

“Lady A Shara, I apologize for not even having the capacity to congratulate you on your splendid first battle,” Ba Ryouki said, regaining a modicum of composure upon seeing the young girl with her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat, her appearance dirty.

“It doesn’t matter. More importantly, I want to know the meaning of the Sword Saint’s words just now,” A Shara said, looking straight at him.

However, there was a slight hesitation in responding. Sensing this, she spoke in a clear voice, “Speak the truth. Even among family, there is no need for restraint. I do not possess a mouth that would make foolish gossip.”

A Shara’s words, spoken without hesitation, carried a strange persuasiveness. If it were her, one could believe without foundation that she would uphold what she said even if her head were split open.

“…From the beginning, there was no prospect for this battle,” Ba Ryouki said.

“Are you saying that the withdrawal after the victory was predetermined?” A Shara asked.

“Exactly. Despite overwhelming the enemy while maintaining a perfect state in a conflict he himself instigated, Lord A Zan ordered a withdrawal without even pursuing the fleeing enemy,” Ba Ryouki replied.

“I see. In other words, he went to kill the enemy of his own volition but did not deliver the final blow,” A Shara said.

“If it were a case of being unable to deliver the final blow as a result, that would be a common occurrence and not an issue. However, Lord A Zan did not even make a pretense of attempting to deliver the final blow,” Ba Ryouki said.

Libi interjected into the conversation between A Shara and Ba Ryouki, “Then, was there any meaning to this battle?”

Ba Ryouki nodded in response to his nephew’s question.

“There was, at least for the Commanding General, the instigator of this battle. The only thing he desired was the military achievement of victory against Murakumo. It was not a strong will to reclaim lost territory but an act driven by a desire for internal heroic tales. After winning the battle, he avoided further blows that would incur Murakumo’s wrath. That is the thinking of the weak, the behavior of a loser. It is regrettable that I swung my sword in such a meaningless battle. This incident has made it clear that the man presiding over this Uzushi is a petty person who only thinks about keeping his seat warm,” Ba Ryouki spat out.

Libi hurriedly admonished Ba Ryouki, “Uncle! You’re in front of your own daughter!”

However, A Shara laughed through her nose.

“Don’t worry. Even if he is the man who became my father, I understand his true nature well. The Sword Saint has stated facts; I have no intention of getting angry at being insulted,” she said.

Even in front of people from another country mocking her father, A Shara maintained her composure. She seemed to possess a far more complete personality than his aged self, and Ba Ryouki felt a sense of shame and turned to bow in apology. However, a knock on the door stopped him just before he could do so.

“What is it?” Ba Ryouki asked the visitor about their business.

It turned out to be a messenger delivering a letter from Shanoa, the home country of Ba Ryouki and Libi.

Looking at the contents of the letter, Ba Ryouki’s frown deepened even further.

“Uncle, what does the court say?” Libi asked.

“There are signs of rebellion in the Sanro region. I am to return home alone and lead the King’s Guard to suppress it, by order of His Majesty,” Ba Ryouki said.

The current king of Shanoa was still young. The real power was held by the family of the late former king’s consort, while the former king’s illegitimate children and blood relatives, who originally had higher succession rights, had lost in the power struggle and either lost their lives or were placed under house arrest in Sanro, a poor small territory within Shanoa.

Upon hearing this, Libi struck his chest with a grim expression.

“Then I will go with you,” he said bravely.

Ba Ryouki shook his head at his nephew.

“You stay here. If both of us representing Shanoa leave our seats, it would be disrespectful. The details are unclear from this letter alone. I will follow the instructions, return home to assess the situation, and then give orders. We have achieved results in this battle, at least in form. We should not be disturbed here for some time,” he said.

Ba Ryouki turned back to A Shara, who had been standing still, observing the situation.

“I apologize for my rudeness earlier. Due to the urgency of the matter, I was unable to pay my respects to your father, please forgive me,” he said.

A Shara nodded firmly once.

“I will explain it to him,” she said.

With a brief farewell, Ba Ryouki picked up his treasured sword Iwanawa and prepared to depart. To Libi, who stood up to follow, he left some words.

“I don’t need to be seen off—” he said, but just before leaving the room, he remembered something and stopped.

“—Libi,” he called.

“Ah, yes!” Libi responded.

“Search for the silver-haired, one-eyed man who was in the enemy camp. In the chaos, I got distracted, but he was a warrior worthy of renown. He must have been captured. If you can confirm his safety, tell Lord A Zan that Shanoa’s General Ba Ryouki requests his protection,” Ba Ryouki said.

“Protection…? But he’s an enemy soldier,” Libi said hesitantly.

Ba Ryouki glared at his nephew sharply.

“Do you want me to say it twice?” he asked.

“…No, I will definitely do as you say,” Libi replied.

Watching his uncle’s back as he left the room, Libi let out a sigh.

“I didn’t think he was the type to show his emotions so openly,” A Shara said, looking at the scattered tables and shattered furnishings in the room.

“Many people think of my uncle as a calm and collected person, perhaps because of the title ‘Sword Saint,’ but in reality, when he gets angry and rages based on his emotions, it’s more frightening than a wrathful demonic god,” Libi said with a shudder.

A Shara laughed in amusement.

“Well then, I’ll be going too. I’ll cleanse myself and go pay my respects to that foolish monk general,” she said.

As A Shara was about to leave, Libi hurriedly called out to her.

“Um, congratulations. Your bravery on the battlefield, this Ba Libi was utterly captivated by it,” he said.

A Shara tilted her head and glanced sideways, smiling with a straight posture. As Libi was entranced by each of her perfected gestures, A Shara left a casual remark.

“That’s right, if you find the man the Sword Saint mentioned, let me know too. If he’s someone that someone like him is fixated on, I’d like to speak with him directly,” she said.

“…Ah…yes,” Libi replied absentmindedly to A Shara, who had said that so casually before leaving.

—What is this?

Libi put his hand on his chest, trying to touch the vague unpleasant feeling lingering in his heart.

The fortress was still filled with men whose excitement had not yet subsided, enveloped in a peculiar stench of mixed blood and sweat.

In front of Libi, who had visited the long, narrow barracks where the rank-and-file soldiers came and went, some sat slumped against the corridor walls with a tired look, while others spiritedly raised their voices in victory cries. The place was engulfed in a clamor reminiscent of a seedy tavern. However, it was not unreasonable. The battle had ended less than a day ago.

Libi pushed through his fatigue and walked around various places, asking about the whereabouts of the captured enemy soldiers.

Walking from one end of the fortress to the other, he was told that some of the captured men had been executed early on, which chilled his liver. However, upon seeing the pile of corpses scattered on the ground like strangled chickens, he couldn’t find any characteristics matching the person he was looking for, and he let out a sigh of relief.

As it grew dark and the sounds of lively banquets began to reach him from various places, Libi finally discovered the existence and location of the underground dungeon. From the person managing it, he learned that the individual he was searching for had been taken away by order of the Commanding General.

Asking his growling stomach for patience, Libi made his way to the room where A Zan was stationed.

Even before reaching A Zan’s room, Libi spotted the person he was looking for along the way. The hair his uncle had described as silver appeared only a dull gray in the darkness, but the unusually large black eye patch was unmistakable, as he had seen it from a distance himself.

The man whose protection Ba Ryouki had ordered was being led into the dimly lit prison, which Libi and the others had been introduced to when they were first shown around the fortress, surrounded by four sturdy soldiers while his hands were tightly bound. Behind him, A Zan followed, gleefully wringing his hands.

Faced with this scene, Libi instantly grasped the situation the silver-haired man was in.

He was a man whom his uncle, renowned as a hero, had personally challenged to a fight. There was no need to think about it; he must have been quite active on the battlefield. In other words, from Coral’s perspective, that man had become notorious and stood out in a bad way. Judging from the fact that he was being isolated from the general prisoners, he was about to be placed in a more severe situation.

Libi impulsively stepped forward with one foot and reached out his hand, about to shout A Zan’s name as he disappeared into the prison cell.

However, no voice came out.

In a situation where he should have acted to seek protection, the memory of his uncle’s fervent gaze and Shara’s face, filled with childlike innocence and interest, floated into his mind. Those memories, welling up like foam, hindered Libi’s actions without him understanding why.

He watched the silver-haired man, the accompanying soldiers, and A Zan’s figure dissolve into the darkness, his body rigid.

Libi stood alone in the dark corridor, unable to move.

　　＊

“Well, well, to think that such a slender man single-handedly took down nearly twenty of my Coral’s elite soldiers,” the man said, shaking the excess flesh on his chin.

Shuou glared at him intensely.

“You still make that face even at this point? I see, very well. It’s good. Because you’re a strong man, my desires will be satisfied.”

The man wiped away the drool that was about to spill from his mouth with his tongue. Based on what Shuou had overheard from those around him, this man, who was in charge of the Uzumi Castle, was apparently named A Zan.

With a vulgar expression, he wrung his hands and looked down at Shuou. Not a single shred of elegance or dignity could be found in his appearance.

Moved from that shoddy underground dungeon to an even more unclean and dimly lit prison, Shuou was completely defenseless, his arms suspended by chains hanging from the ceiling, exposed to A Zan’s clinging gaze.

“And of all things, a citizen of Rishia—”

A Zan’s swollen fingers raked through Shuou’s hair, and Shuou shook his head in resistance.

“Hmph, how lively you are, but how long will that last? This must be some kind of divine will. Don’t think you’ll die easily. I have to enjoy watching you writhe in agony. You are one of my precious spoils of war from this battle.”

A Zan placed his hand on Shuou’s chin with a gesture as if savoring an aged wine, and Shuou was tormented by a feeling of disgust so strong it felt like his stomach would rot away.

A Zan left the prison, and the key was locked. He didn’t leave immediately but instead kicked the iron bars of the prison across from Shuou with all his might.

“What are you doing sleeping so carefree?! Your replacement has arrived. I won’t hold back any longer. Prepare yourself starting tomorrow!”

Leaving behind a vulgar laugh, A Zan finally left the prison.

Placed in a miserable environment with no light and hardly any outside air reaching him, Shuou simply gave in to his fatigue and felt relieved that silence had finally arrived.

Closing his eyes and letting his head drop with his arms suspended, he faintly heard what sounded like a person’s sleeping breath coming from in front of him.

He awoke to the faint sound of a small bird.

The morning sun leaking through a small ventilation hole in the corner of the ceiling cast a single ray of light into the dark prison. The pure white morning light also delivered a faint glow into the prison across from him.

“Hey…”

With both hands chained and a lean body, the man’s rugged physique was rippling with bulging muscles, like a majestic mountain range.

The dark-skinned man stared at Shuou with an incredibly fierce, lion-like gaze.