EPILOGUE
“Sir, the Flame Clan’s forces have begun retreating again.”
“That so?”
Yuuto replied to Kristina’s report in a voice that sounded nothing like him.
This time, surely, they were actually retreating—but the Steel Clan soldiers, who’d just spent a good while running for their lives—they no longer possessed the strength to pursue them.
“This was a total defeat, wasn’t it?”
“Not at all, sir. I believe that, strategically speaking, we came out victorious.”
Kristina was quick to shake her head in disagreement at Yuuto’s mumbles of despair.
From an objective perspective, yes, she was probably correct, but Yuuto had lost too much in this fight to accept the outcome of the battle as “victory.”
“Thanks to the efforts of Lord Skáviðr, our losses were slight.”
“Yeah.”
Yuuto’s hands clenched around the katana sheath he was holding.
This was all he had to remember Skáviðr by. One of his children had brought it to him after the battle.
His very soft last words had somehow felt satisfied, and somehow, that made Yuuto feel just a little bit better.
Looking back, Yuuto felt that man had been looking for a place to die. In his own way, he’d found himself an appropriate place to meet his end.
Whether or not Yuuto would be able to accept him dying like that, however, was an entirely different story.
“That dumb bastard. Why’d he have to go off and die?! There was still so much I wanted him to teach me...”
To have another person he’d been close to die, right after Rífa had died... Yuuto bit down hard on his lower lip.
He’d wanted her—he’d wanted him—to live.
Even if it turned out he’d never be able to fight again, he’d wanted him to come home, alive.
But that was just a wish that would never be granted. He’d never hear his gloomy voice ever again, and it was all because Yuuto had been weak.
If Yuuto had been stronger, none of this would have happened.
“I... I’m going to get stronger! A lot stronger!” Yuuto shouted from the bottom of his heart, loud enough to convince even himself.
He’d become strong enough to win against Oda Nobunaga.
Strong enough to bear the weight of knowing that Skáviðr had been willing to die for someone like him.
And last of all, but perhaps most importantly, he’d become strong enough to never lose anyone he held dear ever again.
To be continued...
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