ACT 3
“Rún! I’m... I’m so glad you’ve come back safely!”
Yuuto had a quaver in his voice as he embraced Sigrún upon her safe return to the Holy Capital. He was so happy at the news that he’d brushed aside the objections from his retainers, dismissing any concerns about the authority of the þjóðann and had gone to greet her himself.
Yuuto had recently lost two people that had been close to him, so he couldn’t help but feel anxiety over the safety of someone as close to him as Sigrún. Although he knew that Sigrún was the one best suited for the job, it was still a risky endeavor to send her off with a small force to capture the enemy capital. Yuuto had found himself getting increasingly nervous about her safety as the days passed after her departure.
“Father...! You were that worried about me?”
Sigrún, too, trembled, moved beyond words as Yuuto held her.
People tend to express their feelings through their actions. She felt Yuuto’s feelings loud and clear through his touch.
“It’s good that you two feel so strongly for one another, but there are others present.”
Felicia cleared her throat as she addressed the pair.
“Oh. S-Sorry. I just couldn’t help myself...”
Chastised, Yuuto came to his senses and hurriedly let go of Sigrún.
Glaðsheimr had the largest population of Yggdrasil’s cities and was also one of its major trading hubs. The front gates literally overflowed with people, and they all watched intently as the couple exchanged a warm embrace. Even Yuuto found being exposed to this much public scrutiny a tad embarrassing.
As an aside, this moment would eventually become a staple among the bards of Glaðsheimr as a great romantic epic and cause Yuuto many headaches, but that was a story for another day.
“Ahem. A-Anyway... Well done. It’s thanks to your efforts that we were able to beat back the Flame Clan in this most recent battle.”
Yuuto cleared his throat as though to take a second stab at his presentation and offered Sigrún words of praise. He simply stated the plain, unadorned truth. Without the tireless work of Sigrún and her men, the Flame Clan would have conquered Glaðsheimr, and Yuuto himself might have been slain.
Taking the Flame Clan’s grain stores greatly restricted the Flame Clan’s advance, and the supplies would be extremely useful in advancing his emigration plans to their new home. It was a victory worth its weight in gold.
“You honor me with your praise. Nothing pleases me more than the thought of being of use to you, Father.”
Sigrún bit her lower lip shyly, and her cheeks turned a rich shade of red upon hearing Yuuto’s praise. She was, by all appearances, a blushing maiden. It was a totally different reaction to when Sigrún was praised by others, where she would dryly respond with an “I see” or “Yes, thank you.”
Yuuto and Felicia were well-acquainted with the way in which Sigrún reacted to praise from Yuuto, but those who had accompanied her on this latest mission—people such as the members of the Maidens of the Waves—had evidently only known her as an unsmiling stoic, and found themselves only able to stare in shock. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
“My strength barely merits note. All I did was follow your orders, Father. What forced the Flame Clan to retreat was not my work, but rather the effectiveness of your strategy.”
Ordinarily, such words would be considered false modesty or flattery, but that was never the case with Sigrún. Her worship of Yuuto was matched only by Felicia in the Steel Clan. Sigrún’s words were almost certainly sincere.
“Oh c’mon, that’s being way too modest, Mother Rún. No one other than us would’ve been able to make it back home!” Hildegard said proudly, in sharp contrast with Sigrún’s modesty. She was known for causing Sigrún countless headaches with her blunt honesty and lack of tact, but she was outdoing herself this time.
“Hilda! I keep telling you to watch your tongue!”
“Ow, ow! But if we don’t tell him what actually happened, we won’t get the praise we deserve!”
“I’ve already praised you, haven’t I?!”
“I’d like His Majesty’s praise too!”
“Don’t trouble Father with your selfishness!”
“Ow ow ow! S-Stop, Mother Rún! That really hurts!”
“Then learn your lesson!”
“Mrrrgh! I’m not gonna let a little thing like this stop me!”
Hildegard continued to argue, even as Sigrún squeezed her head in an iron grip. At a glance, it simply looked like they were playing.
According to Felicia, Sigrún’s childhood friend and partner in crime, Sigrún often complained about Hildegard, but she still had a keen fondness for the youngster. They’d even settled into referring to one another by the nicknames Hilda and Mother Rún.
For Yuuto’s part, he found the sight heartwarming, and it gave him a glimpse into an unexpected side of Sigrún, so he had decided to just sit back and watch, until he heard what came next...
“Things really were pretty bad this time! You need to make sure His Majesty understands that!”
“Oh? Do tell me more, Hildegard.”
He was going to sit back and watch, but he couldn’t let those words go unaddressed.
Even if Sigrún’s Múspells had been in the middle of enemy territory, the core of the Flame Clan’s strength had been occupied with the Glaðsheimr offensive, so Yuuto had judged that despite the numerical odds, the Múspells had a good chance of victory. He had made certain to warn Sigrún to keep a close eye on the enemy’s strength and to immediately withdraw if it seemed the risk was too high. The fact that they had faced a great deal of danger despite those precautions was a problem that Yuuto had to address.
Because of her almost fanatical loyalty to Yuuto, Sigrún tended to push herself too far for his sake. While it was necessary to have the courage to risk one’s life in battle, a general also needed the ability to know when to retreat. If Sigrún had recklessly put her life and those of her subordinates in danger, then he needed to chastise her for that fact.
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
With Yuuto on her side, Hildegard perked up.
She straightened to attention and delivered her report (or, as Sigrún would likely have put it, she snitched).
“After we finished our conquest of Blíkjanda-Böl and were waiting for the ships to pick us up, we came under assault by a Flame Clan cavalry unit.”
“...I see. Not surprising that they have cavalry units of their own.”
Yuuto had read that Nobunaga had nothing but praise for the strength of Takeda Shingen. The Takeda Clan’s greatest military asset was their cavalry. No doubt Nobunaga knew just how effective cavalry could be. This was particularly true in Yggdrasil, which was blessed with a great many more open plains than Japan, a region that was, for the most part, mountainous. This provided many more opportunities for the effective use of cavalry. Nobunaga, of course, knew about the existence of stirrups, and with his strategic genius, it would have been stranger had Nobunaga not formed cavalry units of his own.
“I should have told you about that possibility. My apologies.”
“No, Father, you made certain to order me to put the safety of my people first and to retreat without putting ourselves at excessive risk. The fact that we’ve returned safely is thanks to your wisdom,” Sigrún returned without missing a beat. However, when Yuuto turned his gaze to Hildegard...
“We were indeed safe in the end, but things were dicey for a bit. The Flame Clan General Shiba was really strong...”
She quickly blabbed out the truth. Sigrún glared daggers at Hildegard but didn’t make any moves to cover Hildegard’s mouth. It seemed that Yuuto’s request for more details had the desired effect.
“Oh, that tough, huh?”
The name Shiba had been fresh in Yuuto’s memory. The general had left an impression by holding out for a long time against the Steel Clan soldiers who had been fighting like berserker heroes under the influence of Fagrahvél’s Gjallarhorn.
“Yes! He was so strong that even the monstrously strong Mother Rún was forced into a defensive fight!”
“Rún was what?!”
Yuuto’s expression tensed.
Having evolved through countless encounters with powerful opponents and triumphing in hard-fought battles, Sigrún’s fighting ability was remarkable, even by the standards of the Einherjar. While he had only heard stories of it, her strength when she was in the Realm of Godspeed was such that even Skáviðr and Hveðrungr flat out stated they couldn’t beat her. And yet, here it was being claimed that Shiba could overwhelm her...
“That means he might very well be at the level of that idiot.”
“Indeed, I got a similar impression.” Sigrún nodded as though in agreement.
“Ludicrous. Was he also a twin-runed Einherjar?”
“I wasn’t able to confirm, but I believe he only has one rune. His strength didn’t seem superhuman. If I were to describe it, it would be more appropriate to say that he had mastered normal strength.”
“I see... That’s a problem.”
It was true that Steinþórr’s strength had been overwhelming, but from Yuuto’s point of view, Steinþórr had merely been physically strong. Steinþórr had been far too used to winning. He lacked the drive to cling to victory, instead putting too much weight on his desire to enjoy a battle as a result of his massive overconfidence. However, based on Sigrún and Hildegard’s description, the Flame Clan general had no trace of anything similar.
“It is, yes. He was a powerful opponent. I’ll be sure to defeat him next time, however.”
“True. You’re probably the only one who can handle a monster like that. But, well, for now, well done on fighting an opponent like that and coming back in one piece. I really am relieved to see you back.”
Yuuto let out a deep sigh of relief. Even though he had Sigrún standing there in front of him, safe and sound, just hearing about Shiba had made his stomach twist into knots.
“If I’d lost you along with Skáviðr, I don’t think I could’ve recovered.”
“...I had heard as much on my way here. So it’s true that Brother Ská died in battle.”
“Yes. He died to protect everyone. He went out in a way that was typical of him.”
“I... I see. I’m sorry to hear it. There was much I still wanted to learn from him.”
Sigrún looked down, letting out a pained sigh. It was rare for her to show emotion over anyone other than Yuuto. She must have felt a great deal of admiration and gratitude to Skáviðr, both as her teacher and as her predecessor as Mánagarmr.
“Yes, me too. But as a patriarch, I can’t just wallow in sadness. There’s plenty that I have to do. One thing I need to do is figure out a successor to him as patriarch of the Panther Clan.”
“The Second isn’t going to succeed him?”
“No. Frankly, I don’t think he’s up to it.”
Yuuto pursed his lips and shook his head.
Skáviðr, before becoming Panther Clan patriarch, had been the Assistant Second of the Wolf Clan. The current Panther Clan Second had been Skáviðr’s aide at the time and had followed him to the Panther Clan. While it wasn’t that the Second was lacking in ability or character, he hadn’t distinguished himself even in the relatively small Wolf Clan. The Panther Clan, in terms of the size of its territory and the productivity of its land, was comparable to the Horn Clan; it was one of the largest clans in the Steel Clan. Yuuto didn’t think the current Second had enough ability to run a clan of that size.
To put it bluntly, it would be like placing a department chief at a small company at the helm of a massive multinational corporation. There was a very real possibility that there would be those who wouldn’t accept placing the Second as patriarch and refuse his chalice. Yuuto didn’t have the luxury of dealing with that sort of internal discord at this particular moment.
“Which is why I intend for you to succeed him.”
“...Pardon?”
It was rather apparent that she hadn’t been expecting the news. Sigrún blinked her eyes in surprise. She was pretty cute when she did that.
“Wait! Please, wait a moment! Huh?! M-Me?!”
“Yes, I don’t think there’s anyone better suited for it. Based on your accomplishments, I don’t think anyone will object.”
“S-Surely there are other people suited to the role. O-Oh, I know! Someone like Uncle Hveðrungr or Aunt Sigyn!”
The two she mentioned had already been patriarchs of the Panther Clan before Skáviðr. Certainly, they had the ability and character, but...
“The people of the Panther Clan wouldn’t accept them.”
The current Panther Clan territory once belonged to the Hoof Clan. To the people of those lands, Hveðrungr and Sigyn were invaders, and they were also tyrants who had pillaged and destroyed their lands as rulers. From their point of view, there was plenty of reason to rebel against being ruled by either of the pair a second time.
“Th-Then, um, uhh...”
Sigrún tried to think of an alternative, but evidently, none came to mind. It seemed she had no intention of throwing in the towel yet, though.
“B-But... I’m a mere warrior and have almost no knowledge of governing, so I’m hardly...”
“In that regard, I’m sure the current Panther Clan Second and Bömburr, your Second-in-Command, will support you. Besides, from the viewpoint of giving you a proper reward for your massive achievements, it sets a bad example if I keep passing you over for patriarch.”
“Erm...”
Even Sigrún had no reply to that.
If there was no chance of promotion or reward for effort, people would quickly become demoralized, and the organization itself would lose its vibrancy. It was the responsibility and duty of those in command to reward those who serve under them. Of course, Sigrún should be acutely aware of that, but...
“B-But... If I become patriarch, I’d have to spend my time in the Panther Clan’s territories, yes? I-I know that it’s selfish of me to say this, but I would prefer to be at your side, Father, rather than ruling as a patriarch...”
She appealed to him with puppy-dog eyes. Evidently, this was her real reason for wanting to turn down the appointment. There was no such thing as a man who wouldn’t be flattered by being this loved by a woman as beautiful as Sigrún. Yuuto couldn’t help but tussle Sigrún’s hair before continuing.
“That was always the plan, so relax. I have no intention of sending you away. You’re the commander of my personal retinue, aren’t you?”
“Huh? Ah, o-of course! Is it wise to have me remain by your side even after making me into a patriarch?”
“What they need is a symbol. Someone to bring the people of their clan together.”
After all, Yuuto still had to execute the difficult task of carrying out the emigration plan. The most valuable asset at that point would be whether or not the leaders had the charisma to get their people to follow them. Sigrún, with her many battlefield accomplishments as well as her beauty, was second only to Yuuto in the Steel Clan in that regard. She was a symbol of the Steel Clan’s continual victories in war, and many soldiers worshiped her as they did Yuuto. There was no one better suited to serve as a symbol for those under her.
Over the next three days, the administrative matters related to Sigrún ascending to the throne of patriarch of the Panther Clan proceeded without delay.
“Then, Lady Sigrún. Please switch seats with the departed patriarch. With that, you are now the patriarch of the Panther Clan.”
“Congratulations!”
The moment Sigrún took her seat on the throne of the Panther Clan patriarch, the formal and stoic atmosphere broke into a flurry of applause and cheers. It was the birth of Sigrún, Seventh Patriarch of the Panther Clan.
“I’m counting on you now more than ever, Rún.”
“Yes, Father. I intend to work even harder for you.”
When Yuuto called over to her, Sigrún remained seated and bowed low, placing her hands on the ground. She was still stiffly formal despite the fact the ceremony had come to an end.
But that was the essence of Sigrún as a woman.
“Congratulations, Rún. You’ve become a patriarch at the young age of twenty. I’m envious.”
“Hrmph! Don’t say something you don’t mean.”
In sharp contrast, Sigrún returned the congratulatory words from her childhood friend and partner-in-crime Felicia with a curt note of dismissal. Yuuto felt a twinge of envy over the display of their easy camaraderie. There was just something a little too stiff and formal about how Sigrún interacted with him. He knew it was a sign of her loyalty, but...
“So you’re a patriarch at last, Ma’am. Congratulations. It does feel long-awaited.”
Next came the cheerful congratulations of Bömburr, the Second-in-Command of the Múspell Unit. Even though he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol, Bömburr’s expression was flushed with joy. The woman he had admired and supported as his sworn mother had become the ruler of her own clan. No doubt it was a moving occasion for him.
“I’m just a symbol. It bears mentioning that you too have gained quite the promotion, no? Assistant Second of the Panther Clan Bömburr?”
“Heh, I’ve been blessed to be pulled up in your wake.”
“That’s false modesty, Bömburr. Father continually lectures me about the importance of logistical support. The accomplishments of the Múspells and myself have only been possible because of the foundation your shoulders provide, Bömburr.”
“D-Don’t make me cry, Ma’am!”
Bömburr couldn’t help but tear up at Sigrún’s words. Despite his usual studied nonchalance and ability to hide what he’s usually thinking, even Bömburr was overcome with emotion at today’s events.
“Waaaaaaah! I’m so happy! I’m so, so haaaappy!”
Hildegard could be heard weeping loudly. Sigrún’s eyes went wide with surprise.
“I thought you were going to offer me some sort of barbed congratulations.”
Sigrún had clearly been caught off guard by Hildegard’s show of emotion. It seemed the comment had been too much even for Hildegard to bear, and she tearfully protested.
“What a terrible thing to say! What do you think I am, anyway?!”
“Well, I figured because it was you, you’d say something like, ‘Well, enjoy it while it lasts. I’ll overtake you before you know it!’”
“Well, sure, I was going to say that, but!”
“See?”
As though she was pleased that order had returned to her world, Sigrún nodded at Hildegard’s remark. She was an older sister who knew her chaliced younger sister all too well.
“B-But, Mother Rún, you’re the only one who’s ever taken so much time and effort in dealing with me, so of course I’d be happy at your success! Waaaaah!”
It seemed that her own comments touched upon her emotions, and Hildegard burst out into a loud bawl. Hildegard had been notable for her arrogance when she joined the Múspells. Her personality meant that most people regarded her as a nuisance, and no doubt many people who could have mentored her had instead lost their patience and abandoned her. Further, her talent and strength as an Einherjar had made it difficult for most people to chastise her or lecture her about her habits, which was why to Hildegard, setting aside anything to do with their chalice relationship, Sigrún had been both a parent and an older sister.
“Sniff. Besides... Mother Rún, you’re just too selfless. Sniffle, th-that’s part of your charm, Mother Rún, but it was always frustrating to watch.”
“Hm? Frustrating? Why?”
Sigrún tilted her head curiously at Hildegard’s statement. Yuuto chuckled softly to himself. Someone who could compartmentalize and accept reality like Sigrún probably couldn’t understand Hildegard’s feelings.
“Your accomplishments on the battlefield are amazing, Mother Rún! You’re by far the most accomplished warrior in the Steel Clan. Yet all these newer members of the Steel Clan get precedence over you just because they’re the patriarch of a clan of their own! Of course I find that frustrating!”
At Hildegard’s impassioned argument, the other members of the Múspell Unit nodded along in agreement.
“Please watch your tone, Aunt Hildegard. It’s a bit presumptuous.”
Alone among the Múspells, Bömburr chided Hildegard in a tone enough to ring through the temple, before following up with...
“But thank you for putting our feelings into words. You should, however, do well to remember that there are many of those very same patriarchs filling this temple right now,” he said in a softer voice and winked. It seemed he felt the same way.
Yuuto had placed many clans under his control after starting the Steel Clan. There were many minor clans among those clans, and those clans had little in the way of forces and just as little in the way of accomplishments since they had joined the Steel Clan. The patriarchs of those clans took precedence over someone like Sigrún, despite her having the most battlefield accolades of anyone in the Steel Clan. No doubt the members of the Múspell Unit also had the self-confidence that they were the ones who had been leading the Steel Clan’s progress. There was no way they found the old state of affairs to be satisfactory.
“Looks like you’ve got good children, Rún.”
Yuuto lightly patted Sigrún’s shoulder. She nodded firmly, with the faintest blush on her cheeks.
“Yes. They’re much better children than I deserve.”
This party—an official ceremony—served an extremely important political purpose as a place for leaders to mingle and socialize. After all, important people from the entire organization were gathered for such an occasion. It was a perfect event to meet new people and forge connections, or even just revisit existing relationships. It provided an opportunity to make observations on the character and ability of the various important people in attendance and to exchange useful information.
It went without saying that countless people wanted to meet and speak to Yuuto, who was both þjóðann of Yggdrasil and reginarch of the Steel Clan. While his encounters with old friends such as Linnea and Jörgen were opportunities for Yuuto to enjoy a pleasant conversation and reminisce, the other encounters tended to be intricate verbal battles of trying to outfox the opponent. Yuuto, who didn’t enjoy that sort of verbal sparring, found these occasions to be tiresome.
“Father, I offer my sincere thanks for providing me with excellent new connections.”
A strikingly beautiful blonde woman appeared in front of Yuuto as he was recouping from dealing with his last ten well-wishers. It was Fagrahvél, the patriarch of the Sword Clan. Behind her was a group of distinguished and refined men who each looked as though they were challenging customers to deal with in their own right. They were the patriarchs of the Shield, Armor, and Helm Clans who had become Fagrahvél’s younger brothers in the Ceremony of Brotherhood between the Arms and Armor Clans that had taken place prior to Sigrún’s accession ceremony.
“Ah, I’m glad to see you here. I look forward to your contributions to the Steel Clan.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The four patriarchs of the Arms and Armor Clans replied crisply to Yuuto. Their gazes as they looked upon Yuuto gleamed with ambition. No doubt they were looking for a direct chalice relationship with Yuuto to secure their place in the Steel Clan hierarchy.
With the Steel Clan’s growth, there had also been a proportional increase in the complications within the clan. Yuuto still needed to value those who had joined his cause first. Not only that, if he were to freely grant his chalice, it would greatly cheapen its value. For that reason, he had made them first swear the Oath of the Chalice with Fagrahvél, a fellow patriarch of the Arms and Armor Clans.
However, they were all patriarchs of clans of both immense scale and storied histories that, by all accounts, already made them worthy of entering into a direct relationship with Yuuto. It would have been more surprising if they harbored no complaints about being forced to enter into an indirect relationship with him first.
With that in mind, Yuuto offered them the words that they wanted to hear.
“Our clan fundamentally works on merit. If you produce results, I’ll happily give you my chalice in return.”
Upon hearing those words, the three patriarchs aside from Fagrahvél swallowed.
It was at that moment that Yuuto’s suspicion turned to conviction. It seemed he was right about their current frame of mind. Yuuto maintained his curt expression even as, internally, he rubbed his hands together in glee.
“Do remember, though... The chalice of the reginarch and þjóðann doesn’t come cheaply. If you truly want it, you better bring something worthy of it.”
“Of course, Your Majesty!”
At Yuuto’s encouragement, they replied even more enthusiastically than before. The embers of ambition in their eyes had flared into a blazing fire.
One couldn’t stay on top with just compassion. Offering encouragement to one’s subordinates and motivating them was another important job of a leader.
“Yo, Bro. How you feeling?”
Having dealt with the first wave of well-wishers, Yuuto cheerfully called over to the man sitting on the throne of the departed. He was an odd-looking man wearing an ominous black mask.
In that sense, the masked man was perhaps the best stand-in for Skáviðr, the recently deceased patriarch of the Panther Clan. The man’s name was Hveðrungr. He had once served as patriarch of the very Panther Clan that Sigrún had just ascended to the throne of. While he preferred to avoid official ceremonies and celebrations, his connection to the occasion had given Yuuto an excuse to drag him into attending the event.
“Not great.”
Hveðrungr glared sidelong at Yuuto before taking a long pull from his cup.
In the initial stages of the Siege of Glaðsheimr, Hveðrungr had been caught in Oda Nobunaga’s trap and had ended up seriously injured, which resulted in him remaining sidelined through the rest of the battle.
“Does something still hurt? Are you having trouble moving a part of your body?” Yuuto asked as he plopped down in front of him.
Three months had already passed since Hveðrungr had suffered his injuries. At a glance, it appeared that his wounds had healed, but how Hveðrungr’s own body felt was a subjective issue, and there was no way for Yuuto to tell for certain from the outside.
“My physical wounds healed fine.”
With that, Hveðrungr took another swig from his cup. Yuuto understood what Hveðrungr meant with his phrasing.
“Ah, the Independent Cavalry Regiment?”
In the battle where Hveðrungr had suffered his wounds, his unit, the Independent Cavalry Regiment, had also taken catastrophic losses. Yuuto had heard that the regiment had lost nearly half its number.
“Yeah. I’ve been on a losing streak lately. The last battle in particular was bad. I’ve had several people obliquely suggest retirement.”
“...I see.”
Yuuto offered only those words while refilling Hveðrungr’s cup.
Hveðrungr’s abilities as a general weren’t bad. If anything, Yuuto considered him an excellent commander. No doubt the members of the Independent Cavalry Regiment also knew of Hveðrungr’s capabilities—the very same capabilities that had taken the Panther Clan, a minor clan in the Miðgarðr region, and turned it into one of the three greatest clans in Yggdrasil.
Still, in the end, all that mattered in society was results. Hveðrungr had consistently found himself on the losing end of battles ever since he had started a war with Yuuto’s Wolf Clan. While that was simply because he faced extremely powerful opponents, war was a business where those who fought them believed in the value of luck. After all, one’s life was always on the line. It was understandable that soldiers wouldn’t want to fight under a general who had been spurned by fate.
“Even if I wanted to wipe the stain off my record, there’s not much I can do if my men won’t follow me. Heh, I’ve certainly fallen rather far.”
Hveðrungr let out a self-deprecating snort before taking another draw from his cup.
It was a difficult problem to solve. If Yuuto exercised his authority and declared his intention to leave Hveðrungr in his role, no doubt the calls for him to retire would die down. The most likely outcome from that would be the regiment’s collapse as the soldiers refused to follow an unlucky commander, however. After a moment’s thought, Yuuto spoke up.
“Don’t yell at me for this, Brother, but why don’t you leave the Independent Cavalry Regiment with Rún?”
“...You’re going to tell me to retire as well?”
The glare from behind the mask intensified.
Even if he hadn’t been particularly lucky of late, Hveðrungr was still a great man who had created a great clan in a single generation and was a swordsman on par with Sigrún and Skáviðr. His glare was still intimidating, and even Yuuto had to swallow a lump in his throat before he continued.
“We don’t have the resources to leave a man of your abilities to a happy retirement. There’s a job I can only ask of someone like you. I need you to serve as Skáviðr’s replacement.”
“...Oh?”
Hveðrungr’s eyes widened, and he set down his cup. It seemed that had piqued his interest. Of course, Skáviðr’s formal successor was, just as the ceremony had stated, Sigrún. Hveðrungr was well aware of that fact. What Yuuto was referring to was the other, shadowy role that Skáviðr had filled.
“There’s always going to be a nasty side to running a country. There are things that need to be done, no matter what that does to the reputation of the person doing those things. Skáviðr had gone out of his way to take on those jobs for me.”
The most public example was executing those who had broken laws or military regulations. Skáviðr had also taken on the role of a frightening boogeyman to keep the soldiers in check. He had performed various deeds that had ended up making him into an object of fear and loathing. It was the kind of role in which no one else wanted to serve. However, Skáviðr had volunteered to do those jobs, going out of his way to handle other similarly reviled tasks for the sake of Yuuto. By doing so, Skáviðr had made Yuuto’s job substantially easier.
“So you want me to do those things, huh? What a thankless job.”
“It certainly is.”
Hveðrungr snorted derisively, prompting a self-deprecating laugh from Yuuto.
While the harsh legalism of Shang Yang and Wu Qi had brought prosperity to their respective kingdoms, the men themselves had been reviled, and the moment that the kings that had valued them passed, Shang Yang was executed on trumped-up charges of sedition, while Wu Qi had been assassinated. Considering that those were the results of bringing prosperity to their countries, it really was a thankless job.
“But it’s a job someone has to do. And it’s not something just anyone can do either.”
At first, Yuuto had planned to do the job himself, but as the symbolic leader that the empire and country needed to rally around, it would be self-defeating if the people not only feared him but actively hated him. That was particularly true now. Similarly, while Sigrún may have had the personality to fill such a role, her accomplishments were such that she was a beloved public figure, a positive symbol for the people, making it difficult for her to serve in that role. In Felicia’s case, she simply wouldn’t be able to stomach the role.
“Frankly, I think you’re the best suited for the job,” Yuuto said without a trace of flattery.
The most important attributes for that role were the ruthlessness to abandon any compassion when it counted and a mental toughness to deal with the consequences of one’s actions. In that sense, Hveðrungr was more than willing to act ruthlessly when needed, and he wasn’t one to take any emotional damage from being reviled. Further, the fact that he was Yuuto’s sworn younger brother worked in his favor. The role of a watcher was best filled by someone who wasn’t too close to the center of authority. That made Hveðrungr ideal for the role.
“We’re going to need to force people to leave their homes and emigrate to a new land. It’s impossible to do that without everyone’s consent. There’s going to be resistance. I need someone who can put down that resistance.”
“So you want me to sacrifice myself on that altar.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I feel sick saying it, but yeah,” Yuuto said with a dry, bitter laugh.
Yuuto was essentially telling Hveðrungr to do the dirty work so that Yuuto himself could remain a shining symbol for the people. He was telling Hveðrungr to be the target of all the anger and hatred that should be directed at Yuuto. No matter how it was phrased, it was an act of terrible self-serving cowardice. Yuuto couldn’t help but hate himself for needing to do such a thing, but even that was just his ego wanting to avoid dealing with the harsh reality and remain pure. To accomplish great things, he needed to get rid of that sort of sentimentality. With the loss of the man who had voluntarily taken on the dirty work, Yuuto now needed to become a man who could live with and process both the good and the evil required of being a leader.
“Heh, that naive little boy has become quite the cold-hearted ruler, it seems.”
Hveðrungr snorted in amusement.
While he now went by Hveðrungr, he was once Loptr, Second of the Wolf Clan, and was well acquainted with what Yuuto was like when he first came to Yggdrasil. He knew the Yuuto who had once been nothing more than an ignorant child. As someone who had been at the mercy of a child like that, no doubt he wanted to voice a complaint or two. Yet, a moment later, Hveðrungr’s lips quirked in a smile.
“That’s the least a patriarch needs to be able to do.”
“Ah! So you’ll do it?!”
“I was never a good apprentice to him, but I’ll at least clean up after my master as a funeral offering.”
Hveðrungr let out a soft sigh and stared upward. There was a certain sadness visible on his face.
Yuuto had heard that Hveðrungr had been trained from childhood by Skáviðr. No doubt no one could understand the bond that the two had shared over those years. While they had clashed blades multiple times, Hveðrungr was still struck with a sentimental longing now that he’d lost Skáviðr.
“Mm.”
Yuuto lifted the bottle of wine in his hand.
“Heh.”
Hveðrungr responded by lifting his cup and taking the offered wine. He then took a deep pull. There was no need for words at a moment like this. The wine in question was the very same drink that Skáviðr had enjoyed more than anything before his death.
“So we’re finally ready.”
Although it was the day after a celebratory occasion, Yuuto had spent the morning deep in thought, gazing down at the map spread out on the desk in front of him. With the addition of the three Arms and Armor clans, the defenses around Glaðsheimr were now secure. When he added in the return of Sigrún and the Maidens of the Waves, he also had his capable commanders on hand. Having prepared his forces over the last month, he was now ready to set off on his campaign. All that remained was for him to issue an edict stating his intentions to conquer Jötunheimr.
“Honestly, I underestimated the Silk Clan’s strength.”
His gaze fell upon the crossed-out rune representing the Tiger Clan on the map. Reports from the Vindálfs indicated that the Tiger Clan had fallen after a Silk Clan invasion had taken their capital in a mere five days.
“So their army numbers about twenty thousand?”
The Ten Great Clans, comprising clans such as the Hoof and Lightning Clans, could only muster a force of about ten thousand troops at the height of their prosperity. The Silk Clan was able to mobilize twice that number.
“And it appears they were equipped with iron weapons and armor,” his adjutant Felicia added with a tense expression.
In Yggdrasil, ironworking was still in its infancy—bronze was, by and large, the standard alloy used for weapons and armor. The reason the Steel and Flame Clans had been able to overwhelm other clans and rapidly spread their influence was largely because they had the ability to mass-produce iron—a metal that was better suited to weapons and armor because of its superior toughness, sharpness, and ease of production.
“Does the Silk Clan have someone sent from the gods like you, Big Brother?”
“I can’t say for certain, but I think the chances of that are low.”
Yuuto shook his head in response to Felicia’s question. One piece of evidence in favor of his assumption was the presence of chariots. From the reports, it appeared that the Silk Clan Army had fielded quite a few of them. They were the most powerful weapon available in Yggdrasil, but they were a technology that, historically, disappeared after the advent of the stirrup and the creation of cavalry units. If the Silk Clan had someone who had come from the future like Nobunaga or himself, it would have been strange for the Silk Clan to have made use of iron smelting but not developed stirrups for their armies.
“They probably discovered how to smelt iron on their own.”
He had already accounted for the possibility that a clan would eventually discover iron-smelting on their own. His research into the world’s history had taught him that the Hittite Empire had developed iron-smelting in the 18th century BCE, several centuries ahead of its surrounding kingdoms. Yuuto’s estimate of the current year in Yggdrasil was approximately 1500 BCE, give or take a century or two. With that in mind, there would have been nothing historically unusual about one of Yggdrasil’s clans having learned how to do it on their own.
“Hiding the true extent of their armies is one thing, but it’s another entirely for them to have managed to hide the fact that they know how to smelt iron. They completely caught me by surprise,” Kristina answered sourly.
The Jötunheimr campaign was being planned using the information gathered by her Vindálfs. Iron smelting vastly increased the strength of a clan and on its own was enough to render many assumptions about the Silk Clan useless. With that in mind, the campaign’s planning now required substantial revisions. As head of the Steel Clan’s intelligence collection, Kristina was no doubt incredibly frustrated at the fact that the Silk Clan had managed to pull the wool over her eyes so artfully.
“Well, there’s not much we can do about that now. It seems the Silk Clan had been hiding the fact they could make iron.”
They had kept it as a trump card for their recent invasion of the Tiger Clan.
There was an enormous difference between knowing about the enemy’s capabilities ahead of time and learning about it mid-battle. The sheer despair that rippled through the Tiger Clan’s soldiers when they suddenly learned that the weapons and armor they had trusted their lives to didn’t work against their opponents must have been utterly unbearable.
The fact that the Silk Clan had taken the Tiger Clan’s capital with such speed and power also spoke to their careful planning. They had been very careful to conceal information from the public as part of that planning. It would have been one thing if Kristina herself had gone to gather the information, but there was a limit to what she could discover using her subordinates. There probably wasn’t anything they could have done to learn about the Silk Clan’s iron equipment in this case.
“Regardless... Their combined silk and iron production, along with the fact that they can field a force of twenty thousand soldiers, makes the Silk Clan a remarkably powerful opponent for this era. Frankly, I couldn’t believe the reports when I first saw them.”
Yuuto leaned back in his chair, which creaked beneath his weight. He meant every word of praise he directed at the Silk Clan. Yuuto could only marvel at the fact that they had invented two of the great innovations of history without resorting to cheats as he had.
“Still, they stand no chance against the Steel Clan, Father.”
“You’re right.”
Yuuto nodded with a self-deprecating smile at Kristina’s words.
Certainly, it was true that the Silk Clan’s strength as a clan was remarkable for this period and would present a challenge in and of itself. It wouldn’t have been surprising if they had spread their influence to all of Yggdrasil over the next ten years. However, that would only have happened if Yuuto and Nobunaga had not been present. In that sense, Yuuto almost felt apologetic for showing up in this land.
Yuuto had gifted the Steel Clan with much more than iron-smelting. Even from a military standpoint, he had developed the long-spear, tetsuhau, stirrups, bows, and trebuchets. They were all things that either the Silk Clan lacked, or if they had them, their versions of such innovations were vastly inferior in performance to the Steel Clan’s own. No matter how impressive the Silk Clan was relative to this era, there was no comparison in terms of power.
Yuuto nodded deeply before he made his declaration.
“Well then. The Steel Clan will now begin its conquest of Jötunheimr.”
“I’m home!”
“Welcome home, Yuu-kun! Lunch is ready!”
Having finished his work for the morning, Yuuto returned to his room in the depths of the Valaskjálf Palace, where his beloved wife was waiting with a beaming smile.
On the table in the middle of the room sat a large bowl topped with what appeared to be chicken and fluffily prepared egg whites. Sitting beneath the eggs was probably white rice. The steam rising from the dish was filled with the distinct scent of soy sauce.
It was oyakodon. However he looked at it, it couldn’t have possibly been anything else. Next to it was a bowl of clam miso soup and pickled daikon radish.
It was the kind of meal that seemed rather out of place upon the þjóðann’s table. It was a thoroughly Japanese family meal. To Yuuto, however, it was a meal that not even the most extravagant feast could measure up to.
“Oh man, this food looks delicious! I’m not exaggerating when I say that I come home just to eat stuff like this!”
“Aww, how mean! Don’t you think, Nozomu, Miku? Daddy’s so mean. He’s not here to see you two!”
Mitsuki pouted and addressed the twins who babbled inside the crib that Ingrid had crafted with care. They were Yuuto and Mitsuki’s children, and at two months of age, they were well into their adorable phase as babies.
“Hey! Don’t put weird thoughts into their heads! Of course, the real reason I come back to this room is to see you two! I mean it!”
Yuuto peered into the crib in a panic, pleading with his children within. While most people don’t usually remember the things that happened to them as babies very clearly, they might very well retain those things as subconscious memories. If the twins ended up hating or resenting him over comments like these, Yuuto would be crushed by regret. He wanted to make sure they knew just how much he loved them.
“Hmph! So you don’t care about seeing me, huh?”
“Well, yeah, I’ve known your face for most of my life.”
“How awful! Is that how you talk to your loving wife who followed you all the way to another world?!”
Mitsuki puffed out her cheeks in displeasure. Yuuto loved seeing that particular expression on her face. He loved it because it kept him grounded—it kept him in touch with ordinary life. That was probably why he often affectionately teased her. There was such a thing as going too far, however.
“Really though, I’ve known you for all these years, and I never grow tired of seeing it,” Yuuto chuckled and said in a serious tone.
“Huh?!”
Mitsuki’s face turned beet red upon hearing Yuuto’s comment. The words had done their magic on Mitsuki and made her heart skip a beat. Not one to waste a good opportunity, he quickly followed through.
“I never grow tired of teasing you,” he said and winked.
Mitsuki blinked in surprise for a moment, before her brows furrowed in anger.
“Graaah! Then I’m going back to my family!”
“How do you intend to do that?”
“Okay, fine! I’ll report today’s events to my mom and dad.”
“I’m sorry!”
Yuuto promptly surrendered, bowing his head so deeply in apology that his forehead touched the table. She was far more frightening than any enemy he’d ever faced in Yggdrasil.
“Hmph!”
Mitsuki puffed out her cheeks and turned away. Three seconds later, both of them burst out laughing. It seemed that neither could keep up the charade for much longer. The exchange was wholly based on a mutual understanding that they were teasing one another. The þjóðanns were today, as they were every day, a loving couple.
“Why don’t we end our little comedy skit here and eat before our food gets cold?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Let’s dig in!”
The pair chatted about random matters as they ate.
While Yuuto had been concerned about Mitsuki’s health after she gave birth to twins, the fact that she was nursing twins meant that, if anything, she was eating more than she had before and was doing better than ever.
Yggdrasil’s standards of medical care were abysmal, so Yuuto couldn’t help but feel relief at how well Mitsuki seemed to be doing. He could relax and focus on the task at hand. Had Mitsuki’s health been in question, no doubt he would have been sick with worry.
Eventually, Yuuto finished his oyakodon, not even leaving so much as a single grain of rice in his bowl. He patted his stomach in satisfaction.
“So, it’s tomorrow,” Yuuto said to Mitsuki.
“Okay, gotcha.”
Mitsuki didn’t bother to ask what. He had told her long before this point that he was going to be undertaking a campaign in Jötunheimr.
“Then be careful. Don’t get hurt, okay?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m leaving the babies in your care.”
“Of course! Leave them to me!”
They nodded to one another and their gazes intertwined, and as though naturally drawn to one another, they pressed their lips together in a kiss.
Twenty thousand soldiers were gathered in Glaðsheimr’s city square. They made up the ranks of the army that was about to set off on the conquest of Jötunheimr. With the addition of the Shield, Armor, and Helm clans, the Steel Clan was now able to mobilize over fifty thousand men, but with the Flame Clan lurking to the south, the Steel Clan couldn’t afford to send its entire military to Jötunheimr. The twenty thousand gathered here were the most they could spare for that effort.
While the army setting off to Jötunheimr didn’t have an overwhelming numerical advantage over the enemy, it had a remarkable collection of talent. It was being led by Sigrún the Mánagarmr, eight of the Sword Clan’s Maidens of the Waves, and Hveðrungr—Grímnir, the Masked Lord, who had once been the patriarch of the Panther Clan. Additionally, they had gathered elites from the other thirteen clans. In total, the Steel Clan’s army boasted over thirty Einherjar among its ranks.
The Order of Battle reflected Yuuto’s conviction that this was a battle they couldn’t afford to lose.
“Welcome, chosen men and women of the Steel Clan!”
Yuuto called out to them from an elevated dais visible to the entire army. On these occasions, Fagrahvél’s seiðr of voice amplification was extremely useful. He could easily address everyone, even when speaking to an army of this size.
“We are about to set off for Jötunheimr. As þjóðann, I must punish the Silk Clan for its brazen defiance of my edict forbidding conflict between the clans. By invading the Tiger Clan, the Silk Clan has shown it has no desire to obey my earnest plea for peace on Yggdrasil!”
As Yuuto continued to yell out, he quietly mocked himself for his hypocrisy. His words claimed he wanted peace, but in truth, he had rejoiced at the fact that the Silk Clan’s aggression had given him justification to conquer Jötunheimr.
“If we allow the Silk Clan to go unpunished for its barbarism, there will be others who follow their example, and Yggdrasil will once again be consumed by war! We must show the clans of Yggdrasil the fate that awaits those who defy the will of the þjóðann! This is demanded of us to secure peace and order throughout Yggdrasil!”
He managed to get the words out, although they grated on his nerves. Yuuto had no interest in peace and order in Yggdrasil. There was no point in things like that on a continent that would soon find itself at the bottom of the sea. However, morale was vital in war. People want to believe they’re in the right. The ends certainly justified the means in this case. This was a good example of how the role of patriarch came with its burdens.
“I look forward to seeing you fight! All units, advance!”
The loud crash of the gong followed Yuuto’s order. The assembled soldiers turned around and made their way toward the city gate. Having watched them depart, Yuuto stepped down from the dais and toward his chariot.
“Father.”
Linnea, his Second, called to him. While she was usually busy governing in his stead in Gimlé, she had come to the Holy Capital to attend the chalice ritual for the Arms and Armor Clans, as well as Sigrún’s ascension to the throne as the Panther Clan’s patriarch, and had remained for a while after.
“We’re almost there.”
“Yeah, this will open our path to Europe.”
Linnea’s words had a thousand different emotions behind them, and Yuuto nodded to her as though in agreement.
The conquest of the Jötunheimr region and securing the eastern coast—the pair had spent the last year preparing and earnestly hoping for that to become a reality. A year felt a whole lot longer when there was the constant worry throughout that year that Yggdrasil itself would sink away from under their feet and into the ocean. For the two of them, it had been an extraordinarily long year filled with hard work and late nights. They were so very close to achieving their goal. Even if they were both aware that it was too early to celebrate, they couldn’t help the flood of emotions welling up inside them.
“I’m leaving the rest in your hands.”
“Yes. I’ll make certain everything goes as you planned.”
Linnea confidently tapped her chest with her fist.
While initially there had been quite a few among the subordinate clans of the Steel Clan who had underestimated Linnea due to her youth and delicate appearance, such voices had been silenced over the past year. It was now much more common to hear praise of her skills as an administrator—an impressive level of competency that belied her youth. Linnea had always seemed to have a certain lack of confidence in her own ability, but the last year of effectively governing the Steel Clan had given her the confidence that she had been lacking. Yuuto chuckled at just how dependable she had become.
“Right then. I’m off.”
“Oh, a moment.”
As Yuuto raised his hand to depart, Linnea grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. Before Yuuto even had time to be surprised at the gesture, her lips pressed against his own. After several seconds, she let go of his collar and smiled.
“For luck. Be well on your journey, Father! May fortune smile upon you!”
“Well, I’m left behind to stand guard again.”
Jörgen sighed out the words, sitting in front of a lonely grave marker that had been erected in a corner of the Valaskjálf Palace. Although its master had departed, the palace was as lively as ever. However, this was a corner that saw very little foot traffic. It was a good spot for someone to rest peacefully.
“If you were still alive, I would at least have had a little more peace. Eh, Skáviðr?”
Jörgen addressed the headstone, but of course, there was no reply. The man buried beneath that headstone was known as a master of defensive warfare. Had he been alive, he would have likely been assigned as one of the assistant commanders of the Holy Capital’s defense and been an enormous help to Jörgen.
“Of course, I’m relieved you’re not here anymore!” Jörgen quipped sarcastically, trying to mask his sadness.
Because they had been of similar rank, Jörgen and Skáviðr had, if anything, spent more time as rivals than as friends. There were countless times that Jörgen had felt threatened by Skáviðr’s growth. There had also been the time that Skáviðr, although simply following the laws decreed by Yuuto, had killed one of Jörgen’s valued children. Jörgen could barely keep track of the number of times he had wished Skáviðr was dead, and yet...
“You have an amazing talent for making me unhappy. Why couldn’t you come back to life? Weren’t you supposed to be unkillable?”
Now that Skáviðr was actually gone, Jörgen felt that something was missing from his life. He had known Skáviðr since the man had taken a direct chalice oath from Fárbauti at the age of thirteen, nearly twenty years ago now. Those twenty years had been a period of decline for the Wolf Clan. There had been the fear of outside invasion and mass hunger stemming from poverty.
Jörgen might never have described Skáviðr as a close friend, but even so, Jörgen still considered Skáviðr to be a valuable comrade who had shared in the pain that had come during the hardest years of the Wolf Clan.
“I’m going to cling to life and enjoy the world that Father is going to create for us. You just sit back in Valhalla and watch enviously, eh?”
“...The Steel Clan is moving to conquer Jötunheimr?”
Nobunaga furrowed his brow suspiciously at Ran’s report. Yuuto’s decision to make more enemies even though the Steel Clan was already at war with the Flame Clan was, in Nobunaga’s eyes, the height of folly.
“Yes. No doubt they believe that we don’t have the resources to stage another invasion now that they’ve taken much of our food stores,” Ran spat out bitterly.
Shiba, the Flame Clan general who had retaken the clan capital, indicated that the Steel Clan had carried off the looted grain in their ships and burned whatever they couldn’t take with them. While they were still assessing the extent of their losses, it was clear the Steel Clan had robbed the Flame Clan of an enormous amount of grain.
Ran, the Second who governed the Flame Clan as Nobunaga’s right hand, burned with the fury of a thousand suns upon learning of the pillaging.
“We can’t very well feed people with nothing.”
Even the great Nobunaga could only muster a dry laugh in light of these revelations.
Although known for his ability to pull off unexpected and remarkable feats, even he couldn’t create something out of nothing. The fact of the matter was that the production of the farmlands around Blíkjanda-Böl that he had spent the last ten years cultivating and developing had fallen to zero overnight.
The Flame Clan’s tax structure was set up in such a way that half of the earnings went to the clan’s coffers, and the other half was distributed to the clanspeople. Fortunately, the Steel Clan hadn’t pillaged from the people of the region, and for the moment the Flame Clan was making do by buying private stores at extremely high prices. Of course, that wasn’t enough to cover the shortfall, and Nobunaga intended to make up for that shortage by redistributing the excess grain in his conquered territories, but even then, the food situation for the Flame Clan was still dire.
“Suoh Yuuto intends to settle the matter in Jötunheimr by autumn, it would seem.”
Nobunaga rubbed at the bristles on his chin as he analyzed Yuuto’s actions. He was certain that he had forced Yuuto into a corner in the recent battles and that he had done a fair amount of damage to the Steel Clan’s forces. That boy was surely not so foolish to think he could win against Nobunaga with his forces dispersed across the continent.
“I see. It’s true that so long as we don’t face any natural disasters, our food situation will improve after the autumn harvest. So he must intend to absorb Jötunheimr by that point and strengthen his position to overwhelm us with numbers.”
“Mm... Still... It doesn’t quite add up.”
Nobunaga furrowed his brow again.
“If that was the case, he could just attack us. This would be a perfect opportunity to do so.”
War was an extremely taxing activity. There was, of course, the intense physical exertion, but there was also the constant mental strain that came from being face to face with death. The whole exercise was intensely taxing on its participants. Just as it was often said that an army marches on its stomach, without proper meals, soldiers couldn’t exert themselves, and as a result, their morale faltered. An army out on a campaign consumed roughly twice as much food as a comparable number of civilians, and a war with its increased food consumption would be ruinous for the current Flame Clan. Exploiting an enemy’s weaknesses was an iron-clad law of war.
“Perhaps, then, they’re feeling somewhat skittish about that idea based on the fact that they were thoroughly crushed in the last battle?”
“I doubt he’s the sort to be that easily cowed.”
Nobunaga couldn’t quite square Yuuto’s actions with the circumstances, and he tilted his head in thought. The thing that stuck most in Nobunaga’s memory after their meeting at Stórk was the strength of will behind Yuuto’s gaze. He didn’t appear to be the sort who would give up after running into obstacles a few times.
Even Nobunaga wasn’t able to realize that Yuuto’s priorities lay elsewhere, and that his highest priority at the moment was to capture Jötunheimr rather than deal with Nobunaga. Nobunaga’s sheer ability as a strategist made it impossible for him to consider that possibility.
“Well, either way, it’s irritating to have to sit back and watch our enemy expand their influence,” Nobunaga stated, making his frustration at the present situation clear.
Currently, the two clans were roughly equal in strength. If the Steel Clan were to conquer Jötunheimr, the scales would definitely tilt in their favor.
“Shall we invade them? Return the favor of their pillaging?”
“You say it so easily, but they’ve left twenty thousand in Glaðsheimr. Given the three Arms and Armor Clans are watching as well, we can’t—Oh, wait.”
It seemed something had occurred to Nobunaga in mid-sentence, and he fell silent, rubbing his chin in thought. After a long moment of pondering, he nodded firmly.
“Have you formulated a plan, My Lord?”
“That I have.”
At Ran’s question, Nobunaga slapped his knee and grinned like a scheming boy.
“Yes. Haste makes waste in any situation!”
“Oh. So the Steel Clan has made its move.”
The news reached the ear of the Silk Clan’s Þrymr Utgarda seven days after the Flame Clan’s Nobunaga. This was an age where information was still communicated via foot messenger or rider. There was no helping the fact that geography determined how long it took for news to get there.
“Yes. According to our spies, the Steel Clan Army numbers twenty thousand. Given we are fighting on our own territory, it would seem our victory is secure.”
“Mm, indeed.”
Utgarda nodded magnanimously as she listened to the analysis being provided to her by the man serving as both her Second and Vizier. She had already accounted for the fact that the Steel Clan would invade the moment she conquered the Tiger Clan. She had also already determined the best locations to face the Steel Clan.
“However, it appears that Suoh-Yuuto is leading the army in person. He is a tactician reputed to be a manifestation of a war god. Of course, he is nothing next to you, Your Majesty, but it is best to be prepared.”
“No, there is nothing to worry about.”
Utgarda had heard numerous rumors about Yuuto. It appeared that, though inferior to her, he had a fair amount of skill in war. The Silk Clan could find themselves struggling somewhat. Still, she was confident in her victory.
“After all, Our Silk Clan have the ultimate and greatest secret weapon.”
Utgarda gazed down at the “weapon” her throne was seated upon. She had realized that it would be a powerful weapon five years ago, well before she had even undergone her rite of passage. No one had listened to her at the time, dismissing it as a child’s fancy. They had all said it was impossible, but she had made her closest subordinates continue their efforts, and those efforts had recently borne fruit.
She had originally planned to unveil it in her war with the Tiger Clan, but that had gone so smoothly and quickly that she had missed her opportunity to use it. That said, Utgarda now considered that lack of opportunity to have worked in her favor.
It was something that had taken five years to develop. She was quite attached to it. She wanted it to have a glorious debut.
And now, she’d found the perfect moment to test her new weapon: a battle against an army led by Suoh-Yuuto, a manifestation of a god of war.
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