EPILOGUE
Valaskjálf Palace—
The central seat of power for the Holy Ásgarðr Empire was built to display the authority and grandeur of the þjóðann, and twenty years were spent on its construction. It was so large and expansive that a modestly-sized city would fit neatly within the scope of the palace grounds.
In the innermost section of the palace towered the sacred tower known as Hliðskjálf, at the pinnacle of which was the most holy hörgr sanctuary in all of the empire. Within that sanctuary sat the ruler of the empire herself, the þjóðann, Sigrdrífa.
Her body was still, her eyes closed, her head tilted listlessly downward, not moving a muscle.
She seemed so lifeless one might have mistaken her for dead, but suddenly her eyes popped open wide and she roused herself to her feet.
“Damn that accursed Black One. I’d no intention of underestimating his power in the slightest, but even then he’s exceeded anything I could’ve imagined.”
Her voice was bitter and spiteful.
If Sigrdrífa’s milk sibling Fagrahvél had been present to hear those words, perhaps she would have noticed that this was completely unlike the way Sigrdrífa spoke. That, in fact, it was much more like another person Fagrahvél knew very well.
And, perhaps, that realization might have led her to put together all of the disconcerting clues she’d seen and heard thus far, arriving at the answer as to who was really speaking.
The Divine Empress of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire, Fagrahvél’s beloved little sister, was being inhabited by her most hated nemesis.
“And this after all the trouble I went through controlling this vessel and putting on that ridiculous act, just to make everything perfect. Thwarted with sheer strength in battle... I can scarcely believe it.”
Hárbarth, patriarch of the Spear Clan and High Priest of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire, had the power to send his spirit to possess the bodies of other living creatures and manipulate them.
That power was somewhat lacking in strength, and so when it came to other humans, the most he could do was take them over when they were sleeping or otherwise completely unconscious.
During the ritual that summoned the Black One to Yggdrasil for the second time, Sigrdrífa had lost consciousness, and she’d remained that way. For Hárbarth, that made her the ideal puppet. Possessing her body, he could use her authority to further his own agenda.
“He’s quickly become too powerful for anyone to contain...”
With the imperial subjugation order, the Anti-Steel Clan Alliance, and the encirclement strategy, Hárbarth had used every bit of the authority available to him to form his scheme, accounting for every possibility he could think of. It had been his ultimate creation.
He’d brought together clans from Ásgarðr, Bifröst, Miðgarðr, Álfheimr—their armies numbering forty thousand all told.
He’d had them invade the Steel Clan from three sides simultaneously.
And, finally, added to the strength of those armies had been the power of Fagrahvél’s rune Gjallarhorn to grant enhanced strength and morale to the troops, and Hárbarth’s own ability to gather information as Skilfingr, the Watcher From on High. The two of them in particular had powers which gained incomparable value when applied to strategic warfare.
There hadn’t been a doubt in his mind that this alliance would be a threat to the Steel Clan unlike any other—indeed, far greater than even the danger the Steel Clan had faced in their previous war against the alliance of the Panther Clan and Lightning Clan.
And yet, instead, the threat he’d orchestrated had been defeated with barely any struggle...
“What a truly terrifying man he is. However, I won’t give up when I am so close to fulfilling my deepest-held wishes. Until I do, I cannot allow the empire to be destroyed. Now, the question is what to do next.”
Hárbarth thought quietly for a few moments, arms folded.
Despite everything he’d done thus far to set things up favorably, he still hadn’t been able to win. Perhaps it was impossible to defeat the Black One on the field of war.
In which case, the only option was to find some other vulnerability to exploit.
At last, Hárbarth hit on an idea.
The corners of Sigrdrífa’s mouth curled up into a sinister smile.
“Hm, perhaps using this body would be the most interesting method.”
To be continued...
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