ACT 4
“Brother, are you all right?!”
Felicia anxiously approached Hveðrungr, who had returned to the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr. He had bandages wrapped around much of his body and blood had seeped into the fabric, staining them red.
His breathing was labored, and he appeared exhausted.
Even the faintly sarcastic smirk that always played upon his lips had faded in the face of his fatigue.
“For him to so easily beat your Independent Cavalry Regiment...” Yuuto spat out bitterly, his expression dark.
Only about half of the Independent Cavalry Regiment had managed to return to the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr. Among the survivors there wasn’t a single man—Hveðrungr included—who wasn’t injured in some fashion.
This effectively meant the Independent Cavalry Regiment was out of commission for the foreseeable future.
The regiment had been thoroughly decimated.
“Just what happened?”
Yuuto couldn’t help but ask the question.
Hveðrungr was not a poor general by any definition.
He was a highly capable leader, turning the Panther Clan into a great clan in under a year and coming up with numerous impressive strategies in his war with the Wolf Clan.
It was true that Hveðrungr had recently suffered a series of defeats between the conquest of the Panther Clan and the Battle of Vígríðr.
However, he had been defeated on those occasions because the enemy was effectively armed with cheat abilities—the tetsuhau wielded by the Wolf Clan during the Panther Clan conquest and Hárbarth’s Eye of Heaven at the Battle of Vígríðr. It was through no fault of his own that he suffered those defeats.
As an army commander, Hveðrungr was more capable than the twin pillars of the Steel Clan, Skáviðr and Sigrún. In particular, Hveðrungr’s ability to detect danger, which stemmed from his keen observations of the world around him, was second to none.
The Independent Cavalry Regiment was an elite unit that boasted the greatest mobility and some of the best fighting prowess that Yggdrasil had to offer. Yuuto honestly still struggled to process the fact that Nobunaga had thoroughly routed that unit.
“It was as you said. That man is a monster.”
Hveðrungr prefaced his explanation with those comments then launched into a description of what had transpired. Once Hveðrungr had finished his explanation, Yuuto’s face bore a tired wintry smile.
“The Battle of Jaxartes River...”
It was the battle where Alexander the Great of Macedon had defeated the nomadic horsemen of the Saka.
The Saka cavalry had leveraged the classic nomadic tactic of using their mobility to flank their opponent, raining down arrows, and retreating if the Macedonians attempted to close the distance, only to have Alexander the Great use himself as bait as Nobunaga had done, drawing the Saka forces in and defeating them with the reserves he had hidden from the enemy.
“There’s no way he knew about that battle, so he must have come up with that on the spot.”
Yuuto could only marvel at the genius tactician of the Warring States Period.
Nomadic tribes were one of the greatest challenges faced by countless great generals and heroes throughout history.
Liu Bang, the founder of the Han Dynasty that had defeated Xiang Yu, one of the greatest generals in Chinese history, had been trounced by the Xiongnu and forced to sign a humiliating peace treaty where he provided them with tribute.
There was also the example of Darius the Great, conqueror of Egypt in the west and Asia Minor to the Indus River in the east—the architect of the golden age of the Achaemenid Persian Empire. He was perhaps one of the greatest kings in history according to later historians, and yet he had still failed in his attempt to conquer the nomadic tribes of the Scythians.
Darius had lost against the Scythians despite having an army of over seven hundred thousand under his command.
Meanwhile the Mongol Empire created by the nomadic tribes of the Mongolian steppe had resulted in the formation of the largest empire in human history and they had, at their peak, controlled nearly a quarter of all land on Earth.
That was just how powerful nomadic horsemen were—and how difficult they could be to defeat without any special tactics.
In spite of that, Nobunaga had easily found a way to defeat such a force over the last day or two and executed it to perfection. Without using any cheat abilities, no less.
Yuuto felt his blood run cold at the realization that he had to fight a monster on that level.
“So, what are you planning to do about it? In a few days he’s going to lay siege to the Holy Capital.”
“...Oh, that’s right.”
Hveðrungr’s words pulled Yuuto back to the present. There was no point in dwelling over what had already happened.
The enemy wasn’t going to wait. He needed to move on to his next response.
“I think the only choice we have is to hole up and defend.”
After a long moment of thought, Yuuto grunted out those words with a tense expression.
Yuuto typically believed that attack was the best form of defense and disliked ceding the initiative to the enemy, but as things stood he didn’t have much of a choice.
The difference in forces was fifty thousand against twenty thousand, and they were basically equal in terms of equipment. The Flame Clan likely also held an advantage in terms of troop training.
Lastly, when considering the ability and experience of the two clans’ commanders, the Flame Clan definitely came out on top.
There was simply too low a chance of victory if they just stood and fought the Flame Clan as things currently were.
“We need to at least close the gap in troop numbers somewhat before we do anything else. With the surrounding clans joining our banner, we should be able to pull in another fifteen thousand or so.”
Yuuto came up with an estimate by checking his mental map of the region.
The situation was substantially different than it had been around the Battle of Vígríðr.
The Hoof Clan capital had been conquered and the clan brought to heel, and the Panther Clan remnants had been forced back to Miðgarðr. The Sword, Fang, and Cloud Clans had indicated their willingness to submit to his authority.
Because of that, he could call upon the forces that had been defending against those threats to reinforce his position in Glaðsheimr.
That wouldn’t change the fact that he’d still be outnumbered fifty thousand to thirty-five thousand, though.
“Then the question becomes just how much the newly submissive clans are willing to move. If they move on the Flame Clan, the situation would become a lot better.”
As he said this, Yuuto snorted self-deprecatingly.
It was true that if the Armor, Shield, and Helm Clans obeyed Yuuto’s Flame Clan subjugation order, the Flame Clan Encirclement would be complete and they would be more than equal in terms of troops—turning the tables greatly in their favor as the Flame Clan would have to deal with threats on multiple fronts.
He was skeptical that things would proceed that smoothly, however.
“Hrmph! To cling to things that might not even happen. You’ve lost your edge.”
“Older brother! How dare you talk to Big Brother that way!”
“And what of you, Big Sister? Are you so flustered that you’ve forgotten which chalices you’ve sworn?”
“Ah!”
Felicia was unable to muster a response to Hveðrungr’s quip, flushing red with embarrassment and biting down on her lower lip.
The fact that Hveðrungr was Felicia’s older brother, Loptr, was one of the most closely-held secrets in the Steel Clan.
Felicia could only bite her lip in frustration.
“Now now. I don’t mind it.”
Yuuto laughed dryly as he tried to calm the situation.
“Even if you don’t mind it, Big Brother, I do! Given that you of all people, Hveðrungr, should be in a position to appreciate Big Brother’s mercy!”
“Why don’t we just let those bygones be bygones. What do you say?”
“Certainly not! I still need to drill proper manners into my older brother!”
“Hey, you’re calling me ‘older brother’ again.”
“Quiet!”
Felicia quickly brought down the hammer against Hveðrungr.
Given that she was never this childish or angry toward him, Yuuto found her current anger amusing.
Felicia was generally friendly and polite, but even she tended to let her guard down when dealing with a member of her birth family.
Given that he was stressed over the situation, Yuuto was honestly thankful for the bit of levity. He knew just how dangerously narrow his perspective could get when he was backed into a corner.
Thanks to the siblings, he had come up with a good response.
“Anyway... I suppose we should do what we can with what we have on hand.”
“Hole up in defense, Father?” Fagrahvél furrowed her brow and said with a faint edge in her voice.
To Fagrahvél, the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr was the city of her beloved adopted sister and liege Sigrdrífa, and the place where Sigrdrífa had been laid to rest. Clearly the idea of exposing such a sacred place to enemy attack upset her.
“Weeell, I agreeee that it’s probably the best cooourse of action.”
Bára patted Fagrahvél on the back reassuringly, noting her agreement in her languid lilt.
The fact that Bára was so quick to agree meant that she likely had a grasp of the situation as a strategist.
Despite her seemingly languid demeanor, she was still a sharp and tough woman.
“You two know the Holy Capital well, right? Since we’ll be holing up here, I need your frank assessment of our prospects,” Yuuto inquired as he rested his elbows on his desk and knitted his fingers together.
This was why he had called this meeting in his office.
“I see, so that’s why I’ve also been summoned.”
With that remark, the fourth occupant in the room, the Panther Clan patriarch, Skáviðr, nodded his understanding.
During his days as a member of the Wolf Clan, Skáviðr had been the general commanding the defense of Fort Gnipahellir where he had skillfully repelled countless Claw Clan attacks.
While Yuuto had participated in his fair share of field battles, this would only be his second defensive siege and the first since his very first battle. He wanted insights from those with more experience than him.
“Mm.”
Fagrahvél fell briefly into thought.
“The most notable characteristic of the Holy Capital as a defensive fortification is, as you well know, Father, that it is far, far too large.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
Yuuto let out a soft chuckle as though in agreement.
The Valaskjálf Palace alone was the size of a small city in terms of area.
The entire Holy Capital was, without exaggeration, roughly ten times the area of the Steel Clan capital of Gimlé.
“That, of course, means that defending it requires a substantial number of soldiers. At the same time, because of its sheer size, it’s also difficult for the enemy to surround. That particular aspect should function to our advantage this time.”
“Aaaalso... There’s the heeeight of the waaalls. They’re about twiiice the height of a normal ciiiity’s.”
“Right, I was hoping to make use of that.”
Yuuto nodded.
There was currently a Steel Clan army of twenty thousand garrisoning within the Holy Capital, so he had enough troops.
Because the city was so large in outer circumference, if the enemy planned to encircle the city, their forces would be spread incredibly thin and there would be a large number of gaps in their encirclement.
The longer the siege lasted, the more important this detail would become in terms of coordinating with other fortifications, carrying in supplies, and the like.
Higher walls also meant a substantial advantage because of the fact that their height would make it more difficult to scale them and would protect from ranged attacks by the enemy while providing a higher platform for the defenders to fire from.
“So I understand full well it’s a tough nut to crack, but if you could, could you tell me its weaknesses as well?”
“Hm, weaknesses, Father? I don’t think there are any that come to mind... It would be quite the problem for the seat of the þjóðann to have any obvious weaknesses.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Yuuto was about to agree with Fagrahvél when he was interrupted.
“The Holy Capital’s greatest weakness is the sheer size of its population.”
“Oh?”
Yuuto turned to look intently at Skáviðr.
“When a well-defended castle falls, it’s almost always not from external attack, but from collapses within it,” he stated, expanding upon his previous comment.
“Ah, I see. Yes, it’d be quite difficult to control a population this big.”
Yuuto let out a dry, tired chuckle at the thought.
The population of the city, numbering a hundred thousand, was an enormous risk.
A siege of a city represented a massive burden to the city’s denizens.
While people can generally endure hardships when they know they’ll eventually pass, they’re much less capable of handling hardships that have no definitive end.
People were fragile creatures. The longer a siege lasted, the greater their discontent and fear would become. Moreover, desperate people tended to take desperate measures.
With a population of a hundred thousand people, the risk was even greater. Even if just a few dozen of those people decided they’d had enough and turned, they could open a gate to allow the Flame Clan entry and bring the entire defensive position crashing down.
“Thanks, Skáviðr. I honestly was underestimating just how hard it’d be to defend this place,” Yuuto swallowed to clear the lump in his throat and said with a tense expression.
Before this discussion, there had been a part of Yuuto that had convinced himself that holding out in the city until the arrival of Steel Clan reinforcements would be easy. After all, no matter how much of a genius he was, Nobunaga wouldn’t have any knowledge of siege weapons like trebuchets.
Yuuto felt a chill run up his spine at how he had taken the defense of the city for granted.
This wasn’t going to be that easy.
The most dangerous enemy in a defensive siege wasn’t the one outside the walls, it was the one within.
It was an eye-opening moment for Yuuto.
“So he’s holed himself up inside the city. Looking at his history, I thought he’d charge out and fight us head on,” Nobunaga said with amusement as he gazed up at the walls of the Holy Capital of the Glaðsheimr.
It had been twelve days since he’d left the Spear Clan’s capital.
While the attacks from the cavalry unit had initially slowed his progress, there had been little resistance since he’d defeated them. He had arrived at Glaðsheimr roughly on schedule.
“The thought that even the god of war was afraid of a force numbering fifty thousand... is probably wishful thinking, yes?”
“Heh, yeah. That lad’s not so easily frightened,” Nobunaga responded, chuckling at his Second’s observation.
Yuuto was a real man who had shrugged off Nobunaga’s attempts at intimidation and had issued a threat to him face-to-face. He was also a general who had often fought and defeated armies that were well over twice the size of his own. There was no way that he’d suddenly cower in the face of a larger army.
“He understands well that time is his ally. He’s using not just tactics on the battlefield, but his diplomatic resources outside of it. He’s quite the promising leader in spite of his youth.”
Nobunaga nodded, impressed with his rival.
“He’s waiting for reinforcements, I suppose,” Ran said bitterly, frowning.
The Flame Clan leadership was already aware that Yuuto had issued the Flame Clan subjugation order to the surrounding clans.
“Things might have gotten a bit troublesome if we had waited to move.”
The sight of the decree issued by the þjóðann brought back a bitter memory for Nobunaga—The encirclement of his territories that had been orchestrated by the 15th Muromachi Shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiaki, had been the moment of greatest danger in his lifetime.
Nobunaga believed that the fact that he had needed to deal with multiple problems in multiple directions had been the reason his conquest of Japan had been delayed.
There was a part of him that wanted to fight Yuuto after he had gained some more strength, but Nobunaga was now sixty years old. He had no desire to face the same setback to his ambitions that he had earlier in his life.
Further, he felt it would be disrespectful to his opponent to underestimate him so badly as to give him time to bring in reinforcements.
“Yes. By taking advantage of our opportunity and advancing quickly to the Holy Capital, I believe we have succeeded in intimidating the surrounding clans.”
Ran nodded as well.
People tended to side with the winner. There weren’t many who were foolish enough to side with the underdog.
By surrounding the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr with an army of fifty thousand, the Flame Clan had been able to indicate to the surrounding clans that it would be risky to side with Suoh-Yuuto, þjóðann or no.
“Yes, well... I doubt all the clans will stand by and watch.”
The people of Yggdrasil held the þjóðann in surprisingly high regard.
While there would be clans who would be cowed into inaction by the Steel Clan being at a disadvantage, there would be clans who would side with Yuuto between the combination of his authority as þjóðann and his past accomplishments.
There was also the possibility of reinforcements from the Bifröst and Álfheimr regions.
“And this isn’t the sort of city that we can bring down in a single day.”
Nobunaga scratched his head and let out a dry chuckle.
Up until now he had been able to wield the fact that he controlled an army of fifty thousand men, an enormous number by Yggdrasil’s standards, to break the will of defenders within any particular fortification and conquer them by brute force.
That wasn’t going to be possible this time around, though.
The enemy had a talisman in the form of Suoh-Yuuto. The castle walls were extremely high and they were quite tough. Further, the city was enormous.
If he tried to encircle the city, he could very well end up having his forces defeated piecemeal.
“It seems we’ll have to buckle down and do this properly, huh...”
“Father, the Flame Clan appears to be building proper fortifications near the southern and western gates,” Kristina reported as she stepped into the office.
It had been five days since the arrival of the Flame Clan army.
During a siege, it was typical to start by building trenches and shelters for rest, but they were usually temporary structures that are only used during the siege.
They were, after all, going to be torn down after the siege.
It was rare for a besieging army to take their time and build proper, permanent fortifications, but Yuuto nodded, not particularly surprised.
“Siege castles, huh? I figured he’d end up doing that.”
It was a common tactic that Nobunaga had used in sieges.
While Nobunaga was described with the haiku of “If the bird won’t sing, then kill it and be done with it,” the truth was that he had rarely tried to bring down fortifications through brute force.
Most of the time he had built siege castles—fortifications that served as launching pads for his attacks—around an enemy castle and forced the enemy to surrender through a slow battle of attrition.
“Shall we try to interrupt their building efforts?”
“No, no. I’m sure he’s taken steps against that. If there’s an opening it’s probably a trap.”
Yuuto waved away Felicia’s proposal.
For the Oda Nobunaga to make such an elementary mistake at this point was pretty much as likely as winged pigs flying past his window.
“What’s more important is to make sure the troops don’t get complacent just because it looks like the enemy’s settling in for a long siege. Our opponent is one of the greatest generals in history, if he sees an opening he’ll take it.”
Yuuto felt a chill run up his spine at his own words and swallowed.
He felt that even the slightest opening would turn that statement into a reality.
He knew what he needed to focus on at the moment, but he had something else that was occupying his mind.
That was because—
“Your Majesty!”
Mitsuki’s lady-in-waiting Ephelia burst into the room, breathing raggedly.
“Is the baby born?!” Yuuto asked in a shout as he shot out of his chair.
“Y-Yes! Both mother and...”
“Ah!”
Before Ephelia could finish her report, Yuuto rushed out of the office.
This was also Yuuto’s first child.
He had wanted to be present for the birth, but because the Steel Clan was currently at war, he had far too much on his plate to be able to sit around and wait while Mitsuki was in labor. It had still occupied his thoughts, of course. The fact that it had taken longer than expected had also made him all that more nervous.
Now that the birth was over, he had no intention of waiting. He wanted to see both Mitsuki and his child.
He burst through the door where he heard the sound of a baby crying.
“Mitsuki!”
“Oh, hi Yuu-kun.”
As he entered the room he saw an exhausted, drained, but deeply satisfied-looking Mitsuki smiling at him.
At that moment Yuuto almost felt his knees give out from under him. The unexpectedly long labor had him substantially more on edge than he’d thought.
This was an age where the typical maternal fatality rate was in the range of 15 to 20 percent. While it was too early to say that she was totally in the clear, seeing Mitsuki doing well was enough to send relief flooding through his body.
But it wasn’t time for him to fall over just yet.
“Well done! You did great! So where’s the baby?!”
He heard the baby’s cry, but the baby wasn’t with Mitsuki.
The sheer volume of the cries made the sound echo throughout the room and he couldn’t figure out where the baby was.
Yuuto looked around the room curiously.
“Your Majesty, your child is here. Gods be praised. It’s a boy.”
An older midwife of around fifty approached him carrying the baby wrapped in clean, white linen.
The words were meant to celebrate the birth of an Imperial heir. For Yuuto, the sex of the baby didn’t matter at all though. He was content that the baby had been born safely and healthy.
“Can I hold him?” he asked.
“Yes, but his neck hasn’t set yet, so please be careful.”
“S-So what should I do?” Yuuto asked nervously.
He had already looked up how to hold a baby using the internet, but as he quickly realized in that moment, there was a big difference between reading about it and then seeing it and doing it for himself. He was paralyzed by the fear that he could do something that harmed this precious, delicate life.
There was no room for error. Yuuto was as nervous in this moment as he had ever been on the battlefield.
“Then if you will allow me...”
The midwife smiled warmly in amusement as she placed the baby’s neck on Yuuto’s arm.
“Now, use your other arm to hold the bottom. There. You’re a natural, Your Majesty.”
“R-Really...?” Yuuto answered half-heartedly, nervously peering into the face of his son.
His first thought was that the baby’s face was wrinkly. He knew it was a rather awful thing to think at that moment, but he couldn’t help it.
For Yuuto, babies were the soft, plump children who were peacefully asleep in TV ads and the like, but the bawling and crying son that he held in his arms right now had spent the last nine months suspended in fluid in the womb, and his water-logged skin was completely wrinkled.
And yet—
“H-He’s so cute!”
Yuuto felt his expression soften and his cheeks quirk in a goofy smile.
He knew, intellectually, that viewed objectively, the babies in the TV ads were cuter than the son in his arms.
He knew that, and yet...
His son was a hundred, no, a thousand times cuter than those babies.
“I’m your dad. Can you hear me, Nozomu?”
He called to his son using the name that he and Mitsuki had decided upon ahead of time.
Yuuto prayed that the child’s future would be bright and filled with hope, though it may have been a bit superstitious—and perhaps befitting of his son’s chosen name. After all, the name Nozomu came from the Japanese word used when wishing for something.
“Heh, you’re completely taken by Master Nozomu, Big Brother.”
“Yep. I had no idea that my kid would be this cute.”
“Heheh. I certainly agree though, he really is adorable.”
Felicia gazed into the baby’s face and broke into a goofy grin of her own.
“Right? Right?!”
“He has your nose, Big Brother.”
“Oh, really?”
He didn’t quite grasp the similarity himself, but it tickled him to hear that there was a resemblance.
The child was adorable, precious, and cute, and just holding him made Yuuto’s heart melt with happiness.
He swore to himself that he would make the Ark Project succeed for this child’s sake.
At that very moment, he noticed something...
“It’s just occurred to me but there’s another baby crying, isn’t there?” Yuuto murmured before focusing his mind on his hearing.
Yes, there were two babies crying. His son in his arms, and another voice that came from the room beyond.
“Ah... Well, that’s, um, how do I put it...” the midwife said vaguely, as though she found it hard to explain.
Her attitude made Yuuto all the more curious.
“What is it? I won’t blame you for it. Just tell me.”
“Y-Yes. That is. U-Um... Y-Your wife has had twins.”
“Twins?!”
Yuuto let out a shout at the surprising news. He hadn’t even considered that possibility.
“Y-Yes. Unfortunately...” she said sadly, looking troubled by the news she had to deliver.
Yuuto felt his blood run cold at her expression.
“W-Was there something wrong with the other baby?!”
The moment he put those thoughts into words, Yuuto felt a vise grip his heart. His anxiety threatened to drown him.
“Huh?! N-No, the problem is that she was born at all...”
It was the midwife’s turn to be confused at Yuuto’s question.
Yuuto gaped for a moment, unable to process what she was saying.
Then after a heartbeat, Yuuto replayed the midwife’s words in his head and finally understood.
“Oh! That’s what you meant! Oh, don’t scare me like that!”
Yuuto let out a long sigh of relief.
He could have sworn that his body was going to give out for good this time.
Of course, he was carrying his son, so he forced himself to stay upright.
“Y-Your Majesty?” The midwife asked, deeply concerned.
To her Yuuto was an almost heavenly presence. It was understandable for her to be on edge after being interrogated by such a personage. No doubt she was terrified.
Of course, that attitude was what had made Yuuto so anxious to begin with, but now that he understood, it was something he could simply laugh off.
“Haha, no, don’t worry about it. Twins are fine by me. No, if anything I’m happy about it.”
Yuuto smiled reassuringly at the midwife.
However... Twins were considered to be cursed.
It was something that had completely escaped Yuuto’s mind given that he was born in modern Japan, but from ancient times and even up until the recent past, both in the eastern and western hemispheres, there were many regions where twins were considered cursed children.
In Japan, for example, from the Heian to Edo Era, women that gave birth to twins were derided as having “Beast Wombs” (with the justification being that animals gave birth to multiple young), and in almost all of those cases, one of the children would be killed, given up for adoption, or placed at a shrine.
Some historians even believed that Tokugawa Ieyasu hated his second son Hideyasu simply because he had been born alongside a twin brother.
In Yggdrasil twins were also treated in a similar fashion. There were, in fact, many who treated the twins from the Claw Clan with distaste for that reason.
No doubt there were many reasons for this treatment—the rarity of multiple births, the sheer danger to the mother, the fact that they often had health problems after birth, but for Yuuto, so long as mother and children were fine, he had no use for that sort of superstition.
“Could you bring that baby over as well? I’d like to hold her.”
“Y-Yes. As you command!”
The midwife hurriedly ran to the other room.
Just as Yuuto waited expectantly, wondering what the other baby was like...
“U-Um, Your Majesty. Lady Mitsuki wanted me to inform you that she’d like to hold Master Nozomu,” Ephelia approached and told him apologetically.
When Yuuto turned to Mitsuki, he saw her gazing at him with a thoroughly envious expression.
“Sorry, sorry. Of course you want to hold him too.”
“Sniff. That’s not fair. I did all the work! And then you end up holding him first, Yuu-kun!”
As Yuuto carried the baby over to her, she quipped in a faintly venomous tone.
There was certainly no arguing the fact that she had done the hard work and that she was perfectly justified in wanting to be the first to hold their baby.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Here, can you sit up?”
“Noooo waaaay. My body feels like jelly,” Mitsuki said in a thoroughly disappointed tone, her eyes tearing up.
It seemed that giving birth to twins had put quite a strain on her body. Mitsuki was so exhausted that she couldn’t sit up.
“Here, Big Sister, I’ll help you.”
Felicia circled around behind Mitsuki and helped her up.
Ordinarily it took a fair amount of strength to help a person up, but Felicia was an Einherjar and she did it with ease.
“Mm, thanks.”
“No problem at all.”
“Okay, good. Here. Just be careful,” Yuuto said before handing Nozomu to Mitsuki.
Mitsuki evidently understood her lack of strength. She gently placed the baby on her thigh and cradled just his head upon her arm.
“You really are adorable. Nozomu. I’m your mommy. Heh. You’re right, Felicia. He’s got his dad’s nose.”
Mitsuki cooed happily, beaming down with a compassionate smile at the baby.
Yuuto considered the scene before him to be almost divine in its beauty. He could swear there was a light shining down upon Mitsuki.
He blinked, and it was then that he realized that tears had started spilling from his eyes. For some reason just gazing upon mother and child was deeply moving.
“I have brought the other child. A healthy girl.”
The midwife then appeared from the other room, carrying a baby wrapped in a light pink linen.
“Oh. Thank you.”
He’d gotten lost in his emotions a little too early. There was, after all, the other twin as well.
Yuuto wiped his tears with his arm and was about to approach the other baby when...
“No, bad Yuu-kun. I’m going to be the first one to hold her.”
Mitsuki directed a frightening glare in his direction.
It was a sharp contrast to the compassionate, holy expression she had given the baby a moment earlier, but such was the strength behind Mitsuki’s gaze that Yuuto’s instincts told him it was unwise to argue.
Silly as it may sound, there were warning bells ringing in his head.
This wasn’t someone to trifle with.
It was an instinct that had served war-god Yuuto quite well so far. He knew when to pull back, and he ceded the joy of being the first to hold their daughter to his wife.
“Huh? C-Could you repeat that?!” Yuuto blinked his eyes in surprise and asked Mitsuki for confirmation.
He had heard what she had said, but her statement was such a surprising one that he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.
“Okay. Can we make it so Nozomu is recorded as being Rífa’s son?”
“...Uh, are you serious?” Yuuto’s eyes darted around the room and he asked Mitsuki again with a befuddled expression.
It seemed he had heard it correctly, but that only confused him all the more.
The twins were now deeply precious to Yuuto. He felt he could do anything for them.
He wanted to teach his son about all of the experiences and knowledge he had acquired over the years, while as for his daughter, he could easily imagine him throwing hot tea and chasing off the man who came to ask for her hand in marriage.
Yuuto couldn’t understand why Mitsuki would propose making one of those beloved children, at least in name, a child of another house.
“Ah, yes, that’s an excellent proposal.”
“Kris?!”
As the girl clapped her hands together in agreement, Yuuto turned to her in surprise.
“I do think it’s a good idea, but surely it wouldn’t work? There’s a problem with the dates,” Felicia, while indicating her agreement, noted her skepticism.
It was widely understood that it took ten months and ten days from conception to birth, but it was, in actuality, closer to two hundred and eighty days—a little over nine months.
Barely a month had passed since he’d married Rífa. There was simply no way that a child could be born in that time.
However, Kristina countered without missing a beat or so much as twitching a brow.
“As for that, we can make use of Father’s reputation as a womanizer to make the timeline work. In terms of whether or not she was showing at the time of the wedding, if we delay the birth announcement by two months, it should work.”
“A-Ah, I agree.”
“F-Felicia?!”
Having even his most trusted adjutant nod in agreement, Yuuto couldn’t help but voice his panic. He had suddenly found himself isolated and surrounded on all sides.
“Mm, seems Father isn’t in agreement with this proposal, but surely he understands just how useful this proposal would be politically.”
“...Legitimacy, right?” Yuuto made his distaste evident with a frown then spat out the reason.
Kristina nodded once.
“Yes. Father, you don’t have a drop of blood from the previous dynasty that ruled the Holy Ásgarðr Empire. Your legitimacy as þjóðann stems from the fact that you are the husband of the previous þjóðann, Lady Sigrdrífa, and that she gave the throne to you. Frankly, your claim to the throne is quite weak.”
“You’re right.”
Yuuto nodded as well. He had no argument there.
“However, if Master Nozomu was born to Lady Rífa, the previous þjóðann, and you, Father, the current þjóðann, then his claim to the throne would be unassailable.”
“Well, sure.”
Yuuto nodded again, though this time with a look of hesitation.
In all honesty, Yuuto had no desire to make his son the þjóðann. He had no desire to push such a troublesome, burdensome, and stressful job upon his beloved son.
Yuuto’s frank opinion was that the most capable person among those who wanted the job should get it.
“Now, more importantly, if we announce that Master Nozomu is Lady Rífa’s child and the rightful heir to the throne, then you, Father, become a temporary regent until Master Nozomu becomes þjóðann, while reinforcing your political position as the father to the rightful heir,” Kristina continued to explain.
“...Yeah. To go further, by making that announcement, we can also make things difficult for the Flame Clan Army by spreading that news to their soldiers currently surrounding the capital. Right?” Yuuto responded, evidently on the same page by this point.
“It’s as you say.”
In contrast to Kristina’s calm, Yuuto couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh.
It was true that justifications were vital in war.
The Flame Clan was operating under the justification of defeating the usurper Yuuto. Even if it wasn’t a perfect counter-argument, the fact that they could damage Nobunaga’s justification could lead to desertions in his army.
They were facing the Oda Nobunaga. There was no such thing as having too many arrows in the quiver when facing him.
“And it would also give us a reason for Lady Rífa’s passing.”
“...I see. Yes, that’s true.”
At the time of the wedding, they had to conceal Rífa’s death to protect Yuuto’s legitimacy as þjóðann.
But as was noted earlier, given the high maternal mortality rate, it wasn’t rare for a mother to die giving birth to a child.
If they announced that the child of the deceased þjóðann would be the heir, it would make for the sort of tragic tale that the common people loved, and as Kris noted earlier, it would reinforce Yuuto’s claim to the throne and minimize the political damage from Rífa’s death.
Further, it would reduce the burden on Mitsuki in terms of serving as Rífa’s double, and more importantly, was extremely attractive from the point of view that it would make it irrelevant whether or not the ruse would hold.
“Damn, being a king is a cursed business.”
Yuuto couldn’t help but let out a sardonic laugh.
He needed to laugh at himself, at the fact that he could make such calculations so quickly, that he needed to use the birth of his children and his wife as political tools, lest he linger in self-hatred.
“Putting aside my opinion as an individual, as a public figure, I have no choice but to take this proposal. But, are you sure about this, Mitsuki?”
Yuuto gazed intently at Mitsuki as if to get final approval.
“Yeah. If anything I want to do it. Rífa was me. So I want to make her wish come true,” Mitsuki said with a sentimental smile.
For a moment Yuuto wondered if she was putting on a show for Yuuto or for politics’ sake, but it didn’t appear to be that way to him.
“Because Rífa was you, huh?”
It was true that Rífa and Mitsuki looked exactly alike.
It wasn’t just a matter of appearance. They had other strange connections—they were both twin-runed Einherjar, they were able to speak in their dreams when their runes resonated with each other—something had tied them together.
Rífa had, before her passing, referred to Mitsuki as her soul twin.
Perhaps there was a sense of empathy, a connection that only the two of them understood and shared.
“All right, I understand. Nozomu will be Rífa’s son, then.”
That day it was announced that Mitsuki, the first formal wife of the þjóðann, had given birth to a girl. Her name was Miku.
Her name, which meant “future,” was named in combination with her twin Nozomu, as a wish that there would be hope in the future.
“Congratulations on the birth of your children.”
In contrast to his felicitations, the man who uttered the words was pale as a ghost, and his voice was brooding and dry.
Yuuto thought at that moment that there were few men who were less suited to offering felicitations than Skáviðr, the man who stood in front of him.
He was a good man, but his appearance and his demeanor tended to bring about misunderstandings with others. That was just the sort of man that Skáviðr was.
“Thanks. Though... I admit I have a headache from all the bothersome details,” Yuuto said with a dry smile and proceeded to explain the events from earlier to Skáviðr.
The information was top secret, but Yuuto implicitly trusted Skáviðr’s discretion.
Skáviðr would carry whatever secret Yuuto told him to his grave. Yuuto could speak to him in confidence.
“I see. Yes, that certainly is quite the bother.”
As he listened Skáviðr widened his eyes briefly in surprise, but by the end appeared to have understood the reasoning behind the decision and nodded.
Skáviðr was a man who had been responsible for carrying out the law and maintaining adherence to military law within the ranks. He had always taken on the roles that others didn’t want to take.
Skáviðr was well aware of the dirtier sides of the world, and he, perhaps more than Yuuto, understood why such things were necessary.
“It’s hard. I feel like I’m making my own son into a political tool.”
“Heh, I feel that’s as you should be, My Lord.”
“You think I’m being soft?”
“Perhaps, yes. That’s exactly why you have men like me, though. My Lord, I would have you continue to walk brightly in the sun while men like me deal with the shadows.”
“...You know, I think it’s past time that you thought about your own happiness.”
Skáviðr suddenly burst out laughing.
“Heh... Beg my pardon.”
“What is it?” Yuuto asked suspiciously.
While Skáviðr would at times laugh mockingly at an opponent, it was rare for him to break out in jovial laughter in front of Yuuto.
“Oh, well... Lord Jörgen said something similar to me the other day.”
“Oh, Jörgen said the same thing, did he?”
“Yes. He wondered why I hadn’t remarried.”
“You know, I agree with him. I think you should. I want you to be happy.”
“Hah. I believe I’m rather content as I am.”
Skáviðr smiled not with his usual sardonic smile, but a cool, contented smile.
It seemed he truly felt that way.
Still, Yuuto felt that response to be a bit frustrating. He felt that he owed a debt to this man that he could never quite repay.
Although it had been Skáviðr himself who had volunteered, Yuuto had pushed all the dangerous, difficult, and dirty work upon his shoulders.
Yuuto felt guilty over that fact, but such people were necessary when running an organization, and he couldn’t help but lean on Skáviðr to fulfill those roles.
That was why he had given Skáviðr the title of patriarch of the Panther Clan. Even in spite of that, he still felt he hadn’t repaid the debt that he owed Skáviðr.
“I suppose this is something I should talk to Jörgen about.”
Yuuto nodded in agreement with Skáviðr’s idea.
It would be a challenge to find someone who could properly understand and support this taciturn man, but he wanted to find a woman who could do it.
After leaving Yuuto’s office, rather than returning to his own room, Skáviðr set off to a different room.
The people he passed by in the halls gladly yielded the path to him.
It was not because he was the patriarch of the Panther Clan. It was because his demeanor had disturbed them.
Skáviðr, however, seemed to take no notice of those passing faces and walked through the palace, until eventually he stopped in front of a door and knocked upon it.
“Yes, who is it?”
“It’s me.”
As a young woman called out from behind the door, Skáviðr responded without bothering to give his name. That didn’t seem to be an issue though, as the person in the room knew who waited on the other side.
“Please, come in, Brother Skáviðr.”
“Thank you.”
With that Skáviðr entered the room to be greeted by Kristina laying down on her sofa.
It looked like Kristina was shirking her responsibilities, but Skáviðr was well aware that the appearance was an act.
People tended to let their guard down around seemingly foolish people. The illusion also made it easier to gather information.
The fact that Kristina would openly tease her sister Albertina in public might also be a way to make others underestimate her as a mere trickster... Or not.
“What do we do about the midwife?” The moment he closed the door, Skáviðr asked bluntly.
Kristina immediately grasped what he was after.
“Thank you, Brother Skáviðr, you always catch on quickly!”
“Do we kill her?” Skáviðr asked as though he were casually asking what they should have for dinner the next day.
The identity of Nozomu’s mother, if revealed, was a dangerous piece of information that could very well threaten the Steel Clan’s future. It was best to limit the number of people who knew the truth.
It was simply asking too much to trust the Steel Clan’s future to the discretion of a midwife who had been hired solely for her experience in her field.
“Yes. I believe that would be best.”
“You’re right. It’s a small price to pay—the life of an elderly midwife to rid ourselves of a danger to the future of the Steel Clan,” Skáviðr said calmly, maintaining his level expression.
He knew that to run an organization as massive as the Steel Clan had now become, there was a need for operatives that worked in the shadows.
Skáviðr was well aware that without such operatives there would be more blood spilt and more people who suffered.
“But I doubt His Lordship or Her Ladyship would approve.”
“Yes, that’s the biggest issue.”
The idea of making Nozomu Rífa’s son was evidently Mitsuki’s proposal.
No doubt she hadn’t even imagined that her proposal would get someone killed, never mind it being the midwife who had done so much to bring her children into the world.
There was no need to tell her though. Skáviðr could shoulder that sin himself.
“Can you handle it?”
“I... am probably not going to Valhalla when I die. Heh. Well, I suppose I’m more suited to swinging a sword in hell.”
Skáviðr placed his hand against the pommel of his sword and smiled self-deprecatingly.
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