Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria - Volume 17 - Chapter 6

ACT 6

“Ah, Father! You’ve finally returned!”

Jörgen, the patriarch of the Wolf Clan and commander of the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr’s garrison, welcomed Yuuto back to the capital with a look of relief painted across his face. Jörgen looked rather paler than usual, and there were visible bags under his eyes. It was clear he had found himself under a substantial amount of pressure. Yuuto steeled himself and spoke. “How’s the situation?!”

“My Lord... A Flame Clan force of around one hundred thousand men began advancing from Mímir toward Glaðsheimr this morning.”

“A h-hundred thousand?! Seriously...?” Even Yuuto’s voice broke in surprise at the news. The numbers far exceeded his pre-war estimates. It was clear evidence of just how hard it was to gauge the true depths of Nobunaga’s strength.

“Additionally, we’ve gotten reports that Fort Gashina in the west has fallen. Rasmus, the commander, is also missing in action. Which probably means...”

“What did you just say? I-Is Rasmus...?!” Yuuto couldn’t help but question what he’d just heard. While he had only ever exchanged a handful of conversations with Rasmus, Yuuto was aware that he was practically a father to Linnea. He felt a pain squeeze his chest as he imagined what she would be going through.

“Still hurts to lose this many people I know in such quick succession...”

Of course, Yuuto felt guilty every time he heard of losses among the Steel Clan’s soldiers, but there was a difference in his reaction when it came to learning of the death of his rank-and-file troops, as opposed to people he knew personally and may have even been close with. However, they were at war. Death could come for anyone, and at any moment. If anything, that was the natural and expected outcome. Despite that knowledge, he couldn’t help but wonder if his decisions had caused the deaths of those under his command.

“I know it’s of little consolation, but he didn’t die in vain. Thanks to his sacrifice, I’m told our plans are proceeding unexpectedly smoothly.”

“Ah, I see... So that’s what he was after.” Understanding Rasmus’s intent, Yuuto let out a heavy sigh. While there was a part of him that was angry at Rasmus for throwing away his life, as a ruler, he couldn’t help but admit that his actions had been effective. He couldn’t afford to waste Rasmus’s sacrifice. Yuuto tightened his expression and spoke. “Very well. Let’s put our own plans in motion. This is an opportunity we can’t afford to waste.”

“So that’s the Steel Clan capital of Gimlé, eh? Pretty nice place.” Shiba let out a sigh of admiration as he looked over the terrain around Gimlé, rather than the city itself. What caught his eye were the endless fields of grain that stretched off into the horizon. Unfortunately, it seemed they had already completed their harvest, and only the stalks near the roots remained, but it was still an impressive sight all the same.

“Yeah, pretty nice place. But there’s something eerie about the fact that the enemy hasn’t made any effort to fend us off.” In sharp contrast, Kuuga furrowed his brow suspiciously as he looked around his surroundings. After conquering Fort Gashina, the Second and Fifth Divisions of the Flame Clan Army had set their sights on Gimlé and advanced upon the Steel Clan capital. Currently, the two division commanders and their generals had assembled to discuss how to attack the city as they gazed upon its walls from afar.

“Mm, yes, that’s been on my mind as well.” Shiba, too, furrowed his brow. While it was true that the Steel Clan Army had sent a great deal of its forces eastward as part of its conquest of Jötunheimr, there was something very off about the fact that there were absolutely no troops stationed near the clan capital, especially considering its proximity to enemy territory.

“They had clearly been quite prepared for our invasion at Fort Gashina. I’m told the Steel Clan patriarch is quite the schemer. I doubt this will go all that smoothly,” Shiba said with pep in his voice as his lips curled up into a happy smile. Kuuga glared at him critically from beside him.

“You sound like you want something to happen.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. But it wouldn’t be fun if things went too easily, no?”

“I’d much rather win easily if that option’s on the table.”

“But doesn’t that lack a sense of accomplishment? Pretty anticlimactic.”

“I don’t need anything like that. All I want is one thing: results. The best outcome is getting results without needing to make any real effort.”

“Now now, both of you, shall we move on? The real question is what the enemy’s actually got waiting for us,” Shiba’s adjutant, Masa, said with a tense smile. Evidently, he’d decided the two would only end up in a circular discussion if they were left uninterrupted. He was entirely correct.

“No doubt they’ve got some traps set for us.”

“If anything, it’d be stranger if they didn’t. It should be safe to assume they’ve got something waiting,” Shiba said before Kuuga nodded his quick agreement.

“Of course, I don’t have any clue what those traps might be. What about you, Brother?”

“I don’t have the faintest clue either. What’s for certain, though, is that it’ll be a tougher nut to crack than Gashina.”

“Indeed. There’s no such thing as excessive caution at this point.”

“Quite. We should progress with the utmost care and attention.”

Whatever their differences, the two were still extremely capable tacticians. They were in agreement over the best approach to take.

“To me, the issue is the massive range of their bows.”

“Yeah, I learned about those the hard way.”

“In that case, our first move should be to bring in our giant catapult outside of the enemy’s line of sight, just like we did at Gashina, and see how they respond. How does that sound?”

“Sure. No objections from me.”

The discussion proceeded unexpectedly smoothly, and their intended strategy was formulated without a moment’s delay or an ounce of hesitation.

The trebuchet was quickly assembled, and the day after their war council, the Flame Clan Army had started launching boulders at Gimlé’s walls. Implementing the lessons learned at Gashina, the Flame Clan refrained from assaulting the breaches for the moment and focused on bombarding Gimlé as heavily as possible. The next morning, as the sky began to lighten, there was nothing left of the city’s walls and the Flame Clan soldiers could see the city of Gimlé beyond the rubble.

“This is odd...” Shiba murmured with a tense expression.

Certainly, there was no other word for it but odd. He had heard that at Fort Gashina, the Steel Clan had plugged the breaches in its walls using wagons. Nothing of the sort had happened here. It was as though they were inviting the Flame Clan to push their attack.

“They’re clearly trying to draw us in,” Kuuga spat bitterly as he stood beside Shiba. It seemed he was remembering how he’d walked right into the Steel Clan’s trap during the recent battle at Fort Gashina.

“So, what do we do, Brother? If you want the honor of taking the city, I’ll let you have it. I’m sure if you conquer the enemy capital, that’ll make up for your mistakes at Gashina.”

“No thanks. I have no intention of walking into such an obvious trap.”

“Figured. Still, we won’t get much done just twiddling our thumbs out here,” Shiba said with an exasperated sigh.

Gimlé was the enemy clan capital and the main target of this campaign. They had no choice but to attack and capture the city, even if they knew there was a trap waiting for them within.

“I suppose the simplest thing to do for now is send some scouts ahead to see what’s going on.”

Quickly arriving at that conclusion, Shiba immediately set out to give the necessary orders. He wasn’t exactly happy with the fact that he was sending his subordinates into danger, but it was a general’s job to sacrifice the needs of the few to accomplish the greater goal.

The Flame Clan scout companies headed into Gimlé and returned two hours later completely unscathed. However, none of them appeared pleased at accomplishing their objective; instead, they seemed disturbed by the strange sight they’d found within the city limits.

“What is it? Just what did you find there?”

“Well, it’s just that... There’s no one there...”

“What do you mean there’s no one there...?” Shiba asked the scout commander skeptically.

Was the scout suggesting that the Steel Clan’s capital had been left completely undefended? Given that the scouts had been able to reconnoiter the city without harm, it was probably true, no matter how hard it was to believe. Could it be that the garrison had abandoned the city they were tasked to defend out of fear of the Flame Clan Army? Was that even possible? Shiba tilted his head skeptically, but the reality turned out to be even more improbable.

“There isn’t a single person in the city. It’s completely abandoned! Not a soul in sight!”

“Excuse me...?” Shiba said with a look of complete puzzlement.

Gimlé was the clan capital of the great Steel Clan. They’d heard of its prosperity from as far away as Blíkjanda-Böl. There was no way it could be completely abandoned...

“Th-There really isn’t anyone here! J-Just what in the blazes is going on here?!” Shiba had advanced into Gimlé, wary of a trap, and couldn’t help but rub his eyes in disbelief as he found Gimlé was, in fact, a ghost town. Although the scouting reports had already told him that was the case, he still couldn’t believe his eyes. Shiba shuddered and swallowed nervously.

He had just captured an enemy clan capital without losing a single man. He couldn’t remember any examples of taking an important enemy fortification this easily. That was what made it so unnerving. Something that was far beyond his ability to imagine was going on, that much was clear.

“Princess. The evacuations of Gimlé and Fólkvangr, along with their surrounding areas, are complete.”

“I see. Looks like we were able to get our job done.”

At around the same time that Shiba and Kuuga were entering the abandoned Gimlé, Linnea let out a breath of relief upon hearing Grer’s report in the Wolf Clan capital of Iárnviðr. Her features were tense with fatigue, but at the same time, her expression was lit up in satisfaction at fulfilling her duty, as well as a sense of liberation. Grer also chuckled, half impressed, half exasperated at the turn of events.

“His Majesty certainly comes up with remarkable plans. Making use of the Flame Clan Army to move the residents of those cities was a magnificent idea...”

“Indeed. The Flame Clan’s the reason we were able to convince the people to leave,” Linnea said with a soft chuckle. This had been a plan she had secretly been working on with Yuuto before he had set off for Jötunheimr. It was extremely difficult to convince people to leave the lands of their ancestors. Of course, it was possible to force the issue by using the authority of the patriarch, but while that was perhaps possible when convincing a small group, it would have been all but impossible to restrain the objections to such orders when evacuating the entire clan’s population. Even when bringing up the recent great earthquake, the idea that Yggdrasil was going to sink into the sea was still a difficult story to sell to the populace, and it wasn’t realistic to expect them to obey simply based on that fact alone. For that reason, Yuuto, in his desperation, had decided to exaggerate the threat and ruthlessness of the Flame Clan Army and make the residents evacuate through fear for their lives.

“Heh, it was well worth planting people to fan the flames over the past few months.”

“Yes. And I suppose His Majesty’s loss at Glaðsheimr helped.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Linnea nodded.

Yuuto, who had conquered nearly half of Yggdrasil in just three years despite starting out with a minor clan that was on the verge of ruin, was well known as a heroic, almost mythical figure within the Steel Clan. In particular, the regions he had first conquered in the Bifröst and Álfheimr regions had seen the fruits of not only his efforts on the battlefield, but also of the improvements he had made to their standard of living. Many of the residents worshipped him as a servant of the gods. Linnea was among them. Linnea herself had felt the certainties of her world collapse when she heard that the god of war who had won battle after battle without loss had been defeated by the enemy’s Demon Lord, and no doubt that sentiment was shared by the people of the Steel Clan territories.

“And then Rasmus had put the finishing touches on it...” Linnea managed to get the words out without her voice cracking.

“So that’s why he came to Gashina in the first place. Dammit, such an awesome and theatrical thing to do. Blasted Uncle... Sniff...” Grer’s expression twisted with sadness as he choked on his words. Grer, as the youngest member of the Brísingamen, had been taught quite a few things from Rasmus, the oldest of the four, and Linnea knew that Grer had quite admired Rasmus. It seemed the emotions that were welling up were too much for him.

“Yeah... Rasmus really did put on too much of a show...” Linnea said with her brow furrowed in pain and glanced outside the window, her vision blurred by her tears. Linnea could still clearly recall the conversation with Rasmus. A conversation that had happened over a month ago when news of the Flame Clan Army’s Fifth Division’s advance had come...

“U-Using the Flame Clan Army to make the residents evacuate?!” Rasmus said with a high-pitched cry of surprise upon hearing Linnea’s explanation of their plan.

It had already been two years since the Horn Clan had joined Yuuto’s ranks. Rasmus had thought he had gotten used to the strange, imaginative creations, governing improvements, tactics, new technologies, and products that the brilliant young reginarch had produced, but this new plan went far above what he could have ever imagined.

“Yes. Father always seems to think of the most ridiculous things,” Linnea said with a teasing smile. She, too, had been shocked when she had first heard the plan. She had been hoping to see someone else reel from the shock of learning the truth. She felt a moment of smug satisfaction upon witnessing Rasmus’s reaction.

“He really does. I’m blown away by his idea to use a seemingly invincible enemy as a means toward his ultimate ends... These plans of his come from a place I may never truly understand.”

“Father had said modestly that it wasn’t an idea he’d come up with on his own. In Father’s world, a general named Liu Bei apparently used a plan much like this one to evacuate his people southward to a place called Xinye.”

“Oh?”

“This Liu Bei went around spreading rumors that the enemy general, Cao Cao, was a ruthless and barbaric man, and threatening the ills that would befall the people if Cao Cao was victorious. He was able to make use of those rumors to get several hundred thousand of his people to accompany him on that journey.”

“Ah, ha. I see, so he used that as a starting point.”

“Yes. Though, from what I hear, those residents were used as a shield to avoid pursuit from Cao Cao’s armies.”

“Hrm... Well that makes this Liu Bei fellow sound like quite the evil manipulator,” Rasmus said with a displeased expression.

“That it does.” Linnea nodded quickly in agreement.

Given that a ruler was there to protect their people, the pair couldn’t help but feel anger toward a man who instead used his people as fodder to save his own skin.

“Still, I must admit it’s a useful scheme given our current situation,” Rasmus said with a conflicted expression, finally accepting the validity of the plan with a touch of hesitation. It seemed like he wasn’t particularly happy with the idea of borrowing a plan from such a cowardly cur. Linnea agreed with him—she felt the same way.

“Yes. Frankly, I think this is our only option, as much as I hate to admit it,” Linnea said with a chuckle that was both self-deprecating and accepting at the same time. People were animals that wouldn’t move without having a fire lit under them. Fire was a metaphor for danger. It was only when they felt danger that they would react.

“I see, I see. Given the whispers spreading around the city, I was worried the enemy was conducting subversion to undermine our morale, but now that I’m learning that it was our own people and not our enemies, that makes more sense, especially given how quickly word seemed to be spreading.” Rasmus nodded repeatedly, as though something had finally clicked for him. Rumors about the Flame Clan’s atrocities had been spread around the Steel Clan territories by Botvid and Kristina’s subordinates. No doubt that was what Rasmus was referring to.

“Oh dear, it seems I’ve been completely had. Thinking back on it, then, was the loss at Glaðsheimr also part of this plan?”

“That’s overthinking it. Sometimes things don’t go as expected, even for Father.”

Linnea corrected him with a dry chuckle.

When viewed simply from the standpoint of results, the loss at Glaðsheimr had become a key component of this plan. After all, the defeat of Suoh-Yuuto, God of War, had been a shock to the people and had helped raise their anxiety. It was understandable that Rasmus would think it might have been part of the plan from the start, especially after hearing about Yuuto’s overall evacuation plan. Rasmus’s lips curled up into a grin.

“I still can’t believe that to be the case. He lost, but he didn’t lose too badly. He won in a strategic sense, even if he lost tactically, and forced the enemy to retreat. It was a feat worthy of a god of war.”

“No, it’s really not like that...”

“Heh, well, I’m sure there are various nuances to it. I’ll take your word for it for now.”

“No, Rasmus, it really isn’t...”

“But that’s not enough.”

“Huh?!” Linnea’s expression froze in surprise. The truth about the defeat at Glaðsheimr immediately lost any importance in her mind. The Steel Clan’s fate rested upon the outcome of their current plan. She couldn’t just leave his comment unaddressed.

“What do you mean it’s not enough?” Linnea asked Rasmus with a stern expression.

“The sense of danger. Glaðsheimr is a distant land. To the people here, it’s just something that happened to someone else,” Rasmus said flatly and returned Linnea’s gaze.

“Mm, I suppose you have a point there.” Linnea nodded in agreement.

In the end, Glaðsheimr was so distant that a loss there was simply news, rather than something the people in the Steel Clan’s realms felt and were affected by personally. Most people generally did not acknowledge danger unless they were exposed to it themselves.

“If that’s the case, then wouldn’t the people have a sense of urgency when the Flame Clan Army actually begins its advance?”

“By that time, the impact of His Majesty’s loss might have faded among them. After all, the past ages and ebbs away with each passing day.”

Linnea had no response to that observation. Even when people experience a painful event, they often forget about it in time and make the same mistake again. That, too, was just human nature, which was why it was important in war to grasp timing so closely. Gauging the moment when an army had maximum momentum was important in making the most of an opportunity. Put another way, mistiming an opportunity could result in a loss of momentum and result in the force being left at a substantial disadvantage.

“Our current plans allow no room for failure. We could use one more push to make the people feel a true sense of danger and urgency.”

“Mm, I understand what you’re trying to say. But what specifically do you propose to do? You’re not going to say you’re pointing this out without anything to back it, are you?” Linnea looked up at her advisor with a critical gaze. While he had retired from the front lines after suffering his injury in battle against the Lightning Clan, Rasmus was still a renowned warrior within the Horn Clan. He was also the man Linnea trusted most. She was certain he wouldn’t have pointed out the flaw in her plans without a proposal of his own. Rasmus’s lips twisted up into a confident grin.

“Simple. I just need to die at Gashina.”

“...Huh? Whaaaat?!” It took Linnea a moment to understand just what he was proposing. The moment she processed what he had suggested, her eyes went wide with shock. Rasmus had made the comment so casually, as though he were asking for a snack because he was hungry, that Linnea had briefly suspected he was kidding, but a look at his expression showed he was dead serious.

“Wh-What are you going on about?!”

“Eh? I don’t believe I said anything particularly odd.”

Linnea slammed her palms against her desk and stood up, but Rasmus replied without so much as a twitch of his brow.

“How can you possibly talk about dying so calmly?! How do you not consider that odd?!”

“Heh, I’m already over fifty years old. I doubt I have much time left. Now is as good a time as any to make the best use of my remaining life.”

Linnea couldn’t find the words to respond to his sad, determined statement, and simply sucked in a breath. The rational part of her brain understood what he was proposing, both the meaning of his proposed sacrifice and its effect, which was why she wanted to put a lid on it. No doubt Rasmus was aware of what Linnea was thinking given her silence, but he continued nonchalantly.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve served the Horn Clan through three generations of patriarchs, and I’ve worked for many years as the Second, not to mention that I’m well known for my exploits as a warrior as head of the Brísingamen.”

“...I know.”

In terms of Chalice oaths, Rasmus should have been the one to take the throne as Horn Clan patriarch rather than Linnea. After all, he carried a storied history and impressive reputation as a result of his endeavors. He was well known not only within the Horn Clan, but throughout Bifröst and Álfheimr as a mighty warrior.

“The fact that even I couldn’t stop them and fell in battle against the Flame Clan, especially when combined with the fall of the impregnable Fort Gashina, would certainly drive home the danger the Flame Clan’s advance represents. Each item in itself is enough to cause panic among the masses, but the combination of them would remind them of His Majesty’s loss as well, and no doubt it would reverberate through the people’s consciousness.”

“Mrrrgh!”

Linnea could only let out a note of despair. Everything Rasmus said was perfectly on the mark. Rationally, she understood he was right, but even then...

“No... I... I can’t... I won’t let you do that!” Linnea managed to squeeze out her rejection of his plan. She couldn’t accept his proposal. She couldn’t admit that it was necessary.

“No, no, no! I won’t allow it! I... I don’t want you to die!” Linnea swung her arms in circles, as though she were a child throwing a tantrum. She couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that were quickly overcoming her.

“You... You wanted to see my child, right?! I want to show you too! Don’t... Don’t say you’re going to die!”

She trailed off into sobs. She knew exactly how this conversation would end. She knew there was no way for her to stop Rasmus. Linnea had been raised from childhood to take the reins of the clan, educated in the ways of governing from birth.

“Heh, that’s my only regret,” Rasmus said and smiled sadly. He gazed at Linnea with a gentle, loving expression. Even with that, however...

“That’s all the more reason for me to give what little is left of my life for those who will come after me.”

He showed no sign of wavering in his determination. His expression was that of a man who had completely accepted his fate.

“Why...? It might not be long, but you should live out the rest of your life in peace. You’ve done plenty for the Horn Clan until now. You should just retire and spend your days relaxing in the sun with my children on your lap.”

“Indeed, I would like to do that, but there’s an order to things. It’d be cruel to leave this role to young Grer, and more than anything, he’s lacking in the necessary stature. There’s no one better suited for this task than I.”

“...You’re right, there’s no one else,” Linnea said with a sigh after a long, long pause. With the bulk of the Steel Clan’s notable warriors and generals off on the Jötunheimr campaign, there was no one with Rasmus’s reputation or stature left in Bifröst or Álfheimr.

“I’ve always told you that a patriarch must always be prepared to sacrifice the few for the sake of the many. No doubt you’re already aware that this is the time to do exactly that.”

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you...?”

If they proceeded with Rasmus’s proposal, no doubt it would sow enough fear among the populace to make them abandon their city. It would exponentially increase the number of lives that would be saved as part of this plan, and all it would cost was the life of an old man nearing the end of his time. As patriarch, the choice was obvious.

“Yes. I realize it’s rather cruel to you, Princess, but you are our patriarch. There are times you must harden your heart and do what’s required of you. I would like this to be my final lesson to you.”

“Despite your sweet nature, you can really be a stern teacher sometimes...” Linnea said with a sad, wistful smile. She remembered countless examples of his lessons from the past. While Rasmus was ordinarily sweet and gentle to her, when it came to his lessons on politics and war, she recalled he was harsh enough to drive the fear of the gods into her young psyche. She also knew that was what he considered his duty. After all, countless lives rested on the shoulders of a patriarch. He had been the one who had taught her that lesson and carved that belief into her soul. She felt nothing but gratitude for his teachings. The best way she could repay him now was to show him she was determined to do her duty as patriarch.

“Fine. Rasmus, you are hereby assigned to command the defense of Fort Gashina. Leave the rest in my hands.”

“Thank you very much, Big Sister...”

“Ah! Th-That’s not fair! You can’t go calling me that now!”

Emotions welled up in Linnea’s chest, and she felt her eyes sting.

“You’re someone whose character I’ve admired from the bottom of my heart. Surely there’s no sin in calling you that at least once.” Rasmus chuckled teasingly, but his eyes were faintly moist with tears. While he was doing his best not to let it show to Linnea, he, too, had his struggles. It would have been odder if he’d had none. He had raised Linnea as though she was his own daughter. Of course he felt profound sadness at the thought of leaving her side.

“I’ll be off, then. Ah, but before I go, I’ll follow your instructions, Princess, and show my wife how much I appreciate her.”

Still, the man was setting off to his death, all in the name of fulfilling his duty. Linnea would remember the sight of his broad shoulders leaving her office for the rest of her life.

“Princess! Princess!”

“Mm?! O-Oh!” Linnea snapped back to the present upon hearing Grer’s voice. She hadn’t finished processing her emotions. She had let her thoughts wander back to Rasmus. She shook her head in an effort to regain her composure.

“Sorry. I didn’t hear you. Can you say that again?”

“How unusual for you, Princess. Are you sure you’re not tired? It’s an important time; perhaps you should take care of your body.”

“I’m fine. If anything, doing something will be a welcome distraction.”

She had often found herself unable to get a proper night’s rest due to her anxiety. While she managed to force herself to sleep eventually, knowing that a long-term plan like the one she was engaged in required plenty of physical and mental energy, she still couldn’t keep her thoughts from racing while she lay in bed at night. In the end, Linnea had decided the best way to deal with her pent-up stress was to forge ahead with her work. It was perfectly in character for her, given her strong sense of responsibility.

“Very well, then allow me to repeat myself. It seems the Flame Clan Army has entered Gimlé. Reports indicate they’re quite confused by finding the city empty.”

“Hah, no doubt. If I were the enemy general, I’d be in a confused panic,” Linnea said with a self-deprecating laugh. She was well aware that she wasn’t good at dealing with unexpected developments. She had, for example, found herself emotionally overwhelmed when dealing with her recent discussion with Rasmus. She knew she had to be calmer in the face of uncertainty, but it was a hard habit to break after so many years.

“Heheh, i-indeed. I can just imagine how adorable you would be in your panic, Princess.”

“Now hold on. That’s a bit disrespectful to your parent, isn’t it?”

“I’m fully capable of judging when the time for such comments is appropriate, ma’am.”

“Sounds like you’re saying now’s the right moment.” Linnea glared at Grer. Of course, she wasn’t actually angry, and her glare had a rather theatrical quality to it. Grer narrowed his eyes in a nostalgic smile.

“I am. Two years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to make such a jest to you, Princess.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Indeed. I believe you would have adamantly insisted that wouldn’t have been the case back then.”

“Mmph.”

Linnea was aware that was probably true and fell silent. Certainly, at the time, she had felt she needed to put up a constant facade of strength as patriarch. She couldn’t accept her own weakness and needed to do everything to hide it from the world. She felt that if she didn’t, she’d lose everything and be unable to even stand. That sense of constant fear had plagued her every thought.

“That’s probably true.”

She thought back to that time and felt a bitter tinge color her feelings. It was clear to her now that the adults around her had seen right through her facade. Indeed, even Grer, who was still in his twenties, had done the very same. The older members of her inner circle no doubt found her attempts painfully awkward, in fact.

“Yes, thinking back on it, I really was still a child.”

She was desperate to become strong—to become a proper patriarch. She had been trying with all her might to deny her weakness, to reject it outright. Not all of her efforts were wrong, however. There were plenty of things she’d gained along the way, things she had learned as a result of those efforts. Those things were precious assets to Linnea. But that sort of strength was brittle. It would easily snap when put under strain.

At the time, Linnea had been frustrated by the lack of trust shown to her by her retainers, but in hindsight, it was perfectly understandable that they didn’t want to live in such a house—one that could collapse at any moment. She couldn’t blame them in the slightest.

“Heh, but you’ve grown quite a bit in the past two years. There’s a certain flexibility that’s been added to your strength.”

“That’s all thanks to Father. Steel forged in persistent fires.”

The words he had given her two years ago were still fresh in her memory. She needed to face her own weakness and admit to her failings. Only then could she rise above them and use those failures as lessons to become stronger. Yuuto had taught her all about how that was the source of true strength.

“I’m well aware that I’m not good with unexpected events. In that case, what I need to do is come up with dozens, even hundreds of potential scenarios in my head ahead of time and come up with solutions to all of them. If I can’t, then I can entrust the situation to a commander who’s good at coming up with solutions on the fly. That’s all there is to it,” Linnea said casually, without a trace of tension. By accepting her own weakness and admitting that was who she was, she could come up with plenty of solutions on how to deal with it. If she didn’t admit to her own weakness, all she would do is repeat her own mistakes. It sounded simple, but it had been hard for her to do back then. But now, she had learned how to do it. It was at that moment that she remembered the scheme she had put into place.

“We’re getting off track. Let’s get back on topic. It’ll still take quite a bit of time until our people cross through Bifröst, yes?”

“Yes. Especially considering that the people of the Panther and Hoof Clans west of the Horn Clan also need to be moved.”

“I see. Then we’ll need the Flame Clan Army to stay in Gimlé a while longer.”

Linnea’s lips curled up into a smile.

Certainly, she wasn’t a particularly good general. She didn’t have the ability to deal with two accomplished division commanders. She wouldn’t be able to defeat them in battle with a weapon in hand, but Linnea had weapons of her own and her own way of fighting.

“Tch. They got us. Our soldiers are going to be useless for a while.” Shiba sighed as he roughly scratched at his scalp.

Finding Gimlé abandoned had been so strange that he had sent his soldiers to carefully search the city looking for traps. Having found a few elderly people who had stayed behind in the city, the men had reported that the Steel Clan garrison and the city’s residents had fled the city in fear when they had learned of the Flame Clan’s approach. It wasn’t enough to allay Shiba’s suspicions, so he had ordered his soldiers to search the city more carefully. That had been a mistake.

“They’re all caught up in looking for loot,” Masa, his adjutant, said with an exasperated sigh. Scattered around every nook and cranny of Gimlé had been caches of gold, silver, gems, and glass objects. Gimlé was, after all, the clan capital of the great Steel Clan. While the loot was scattered in small quantities around the city, altogether it added up to a substantial amount of wealth. There were items that, for a common soldier, constituted a greater wealth than many of them would see in a lifetime. All they had to do was search the empty houses. Even the professional soldiers of the Flame Clan Army couldn’t resist the lure of such lucre. All of them became desperate to search out the loot, and those who found it had lost any desire to risk their lives in battle. By the time Shiba had realized what was happening, that poison had spread through his soldiers and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Morale’s collapsed, and if we tried to force them to march, we’d see a lot of deserters.”

“Indeed. Many of the soldiers just want to take their loot and go home to their families.”

“But I can’t go around confiscating it either,” Shiba said with a sigh of despair and gazed up at the ceiling.

In Yggdrasil, looting was the right of every soldier who risked their life in battle. While Nobunaga’s strict orders forbade any abuse of Gimlé’s residents, the loot the soldiers had found had been abandoned by their owners. There was nothing keeping the soldiers from claiming it as their own. The loot now belonged to the individual soldiers, and if Shiba tried to confiscate it without providing proper compensation, he wouldn’t be able to avoid the ire of his soldiers.

“If only they’d just left it all in a single treasure vault.”

“This was probably on purpose. To avoid our pursuit.”

“Yes, but it’s still an impressive display of resolve,” Shiba spat bitterly.

While he had no way of knowing, this was a variation of the tactic Yuuto had used when staging a fake retreat against the Lightning Clan. The Steel Clan had spent lavishly to ensure confusion would spread among the Flame Clan ranks. The most important priorities when relocating to a new land were the people and foodstuffs. While precious metals and gems were indeed valuable, they weren’t necessary to live. They were low on the priority list of items to take, meaning they would be far better spent in the manner they had been—aiding as a form of bait that allowed them to more safely move the civilians. It was a small price to pay to buy enough time to evacuate the people of the Steel Clan territories.

Still, the items were, in fact, quite valuable. Making the call to so easily abandon them, and thus leaving them to the enemy, wasn’t something that could be done on a whim. Even if she wasn’t good with dealing with unexpected developments, with enough time and a good rationale, Linnea was capable of taking bold action. That had been true when she had implemented the Norfolk Crop Rotation system. It was what made Linnea such a remarkable and talented ruler.

“The Flame Clan invasion has started! They’ll soon be at the walls of Glaðsheimr itself!”

While the events at Iárnviðr and Gimlé were unfolding, Yuuto was giving a spirited speech in the central plaza of the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr. Beside him stood Fagrahvél, patriarch of the Sword Clan. She was an Einherjar blessed with the Rune of Kings—Gjallarhorn, the Call to War. With it, Fagrahvél could make use of a seiðr that allowed her to amplify someone’s voice across great distances. Given that Yuuto needed as many people as possible to hear him, she was an extremely valuable asset for this particular task.

“Their army numbers a massive two hundred thousand!”

When those words rang out, an unprecedented murmur of panic rippled through the assembled crowd. All of their faces were twisted into expressions of fear and anxiety. That reaction was perfectly understandable, though. In the entire continent of Yggdrasil, there were less than ten clans who could mobilize an army of ten thousand, and the Holy Capital, the largest city in Yggdrasil, only boasted a population of a hundred thousand. The army Yuuto had declared was heading this way was twice that, even. It was an unfathomably large number.

“Well, of course, the army’s actual size is a hundred thousand,” Yuuto reflected to himself, mentally biting his tongue to maintain his white lie. There were times it was important to exaggerate a threat to get people to move as needed, and this was one such time.

“They’re frighteningly strong. Last time they attacked, they only fielded a force of around fifty thousand, and even then, I was able to do nothing against their onslaught.” With that comment, Yuuto’s expression took on a look of intense pain. It was partially an act, but there was also an element of truth to what he had said. He could still clearly remember the despair and shock he’d felt when he’d been taken completely by surprise by Nobunaga’s tactics, and had ended up losing his trusted general Skáviðr as a result.

“This time they’ve got four times that number. Regretfully, I must admit there’s nothing I can do against them.” The murmuring among the people jumped in volume at his admission. He had already tasked Jörgen and Fagrahvél with appealing to the city’s residents to flee, which had already had some positive effects. However, there was a world of difference in the weight of the words when it came from the þjóðann rather than his generals.

“Last time, they retreated because they had run out of foodstuffs, but we can’t expect the same this time. Glaðsheimr will fall to the hands of the Sixth Demon King.” Yuuto chose the strongest words he could to describe the outcome. He needed to fan the fear and anxiety that had taken root in the people’s minds. His conscience ached at the need to do so, but he had no other choice.

“The Flame Clan’s patriarch, Oda Nobunaga, is a ruthless and brutal man. When a hörgr named Enryaku defied him, I’m told he massacred every man, woman, and child in their lands.”

He referred to the infamous Burning of Hieizan. Of course, modern archaeological research has suggested that calling it a massacre was a massive exaggeration, but that was beside the point.

“On top of that, in the land of Nagashima, he trapped twenty thousand men, women, and children into a fortress and burned it to the ground with them inside.”

This referred to the Nagashima Ikkou Ikki Rebellion. It was an extremely brutal reprisal, but Nobunaga had his reasons at the time. While he was generally known as a ruthless man, Nobunaga was extremely fond of and close to his family members. The Nagashima Rebellion had cost him his trusted brother Oda Nobutomo, as well as several other close relatives. It was easy to imagine Nobunaga’s rage at losing his own family members to that rebellion.

“There are countless other tales of his brutality and barbarism. No doubt many among you have heard of them.”

Those rumors, too, had been spread by Yuuto’s people. This was essentially a staged crisis, but it had been extremely effective. The citizens gathered in front of Yuuto quickly paled as they trembled in terror.

“No doubt they’ll do terrible things to the people of Glaðsheimr. They’ll rape all of the women, enslave all of the children, and Glaðsheimr will become a living hell.”

As he shouted out the words, Yuuto couldn’t help but mock himself. There wasn’t a shred of truth to his claims. Nobunaga was a man who forbade pillaging and looting when he captured important cities. Of course, it was true that he prohibited those things because those same cities would become important centers for his future campaigns. However, while Nobunaga was strict and unforgiving to his subordinates, he was a compassionate and gentle ruler to his people, and as such, would never allow such grim circumstances to befall them by his own hand.

In all honesty, Yuuto didn’t enjoy painting this monstrous caricature of Nobunaga, but he had no choice but to continue in order to fulfill his own duty.

“I want to do anything I can to avoid that fate becoming a reality, my people. I understand how difficult it must be to leave the city of your birth, but I ask of you, hurry and leave this city,” Yuuto said, sincerely pleading with the people assembled before him. The area fell silent for a moment as everyone processed his words before the murmuring and buzz of the assembled people started up again. Almost all of the voices spoke in tones of discontent and anger.

“Where are we supposed to run to?!”

“Are we supposed to hunt beasts in the mountains to survive like mere savages?!”

“You’re basically telling us to go die on the road!”

The voices quickly spread through the gathered people. It had started a mass panic. At this point, it was nearly impossible to stop them.

“I’ve prepared a sanctuary and enough food for you to survive there! I’ll also have soldiers escort you on the journey!”

Their response was very different from how the people of the Wolf and Horn Clans would have reacted to this very same speech. The people of those two clans had already experienced improved standards of living under Yuuto’s rule. That had led to a deep-rooted trust among them towards him, as well as Linnea, his chosen representative. They would have obeyed, knowing they had no choice given the desperation in Yuuto’s tone. The people of Glaðsheimr were a different matter, however. They had received little benefit from Yuuto’s rule. If anything, he could be considered responsible for their current quandary...

“The heavens are clearly angered by your actions!”

“Yes, that must be it! There was that earthquake not long ago, and now this! You’ve brought nothing but death and disaster upon the empire!”

“That’s right! That must be why all of these terrible things are happening!”

The criticism began targeting Yuuto himself. Ordinarily, they wouldn’t be able to speak disrespectful words to the þjóðann that they worshipped as a living god, but with this many people in the square, it was impossible to see who had actually said a particular thing. The safety of anonymity among the sea of people made them bolder.

“Everyone, listen to me!”

Yuuto’s desperate plea, even with the help of the seiðr’s amplification, couldn’t overcome the sea of angry shouts. His words were swallowed by the cacophonous sounds of the mob. Their anxiety, their anger—all of their negative emotions—began to collect like a giant snowball rolling downhill. It seemed like it would only be a matter of time before this discontent erupted into a full-scale riot.

A gentle, lilting song rang across the square. The people who heard the song felt their panic, anxiety, and anger ebb away as they listened. It was a song Yuuto was familiar with as well—the galdr of calming. The mood of the people in the square quickly relaxed. They were no longer teetering on the border of becoming a riotous mob. They simply stood there calmly, wistfully listening to the oh-so-familiar song they were currently hearing.

“Lady Rífa!”

“It’s Her Majesty!”

“Oh my! Your Majesty, please guide us!”

The people raised their hands up in greeting, begging for guidance from the young woman who had appeared next to Yuuto. Her features, her snow-white hair—the woman standing there was, to every viewer, Sigrdrífa, Yuuto’s predecessor as þjóðann of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire. However, it was impossible for her to really have been here. While they could hide her hair with a wig, a more discerning eye would see that her irises were black.

The people of Glaðsheimr were passionately attached to Sigrdrífa, who had sung with a voice gifted from the gods themselves to soothe the hearts of the people who were recovering from the shock of the great earthquake. While Yuuto felt guilty about taking advantage of his departed wife’s popularity, he was out of options. He had Mitsuki, who looked identical to Sigrdrífa, dress up as her to persuade the populace. He needed to use her to give the people of Glaðsheimr the last push needed to get them to flee.

“Hear me! Citizens of the Holy Capital!”

“Huh?!”

The moment she spoke, Yuuto fell mute in shock. Her voice wasn’t that of Mitsuki’s, his loving wife that he was so intimately familiar with. Of course, it was the same in terms of pitch, but there was an authority, a presence, behind her words. It had an immediate effect. The murmuring in the square stopped in the blink of an eye. Everyone gathered had shut their mouths in order to hear every word of Sigrdrífa’s royal address. It was at that moment that Yuuto once again realized just how popular Rífa was among the people of Glaðsheimr.

“Why the confusion, my beloved people? I told you at my wedding ceremony, did I not? We face an unprecedented threat. I also made it very clear that my chosen husband and successor, Yuuto, was brought to us by the heavens.”

Her calm, dignified voice rang through the city as every one of the city’s residents in attendance held their breath. The people who had completely rejected Yuuto’s words nodded along to her address. While the people had heard she had refrained from appearing in public due to health complications resulting from her recent childbirth, it had caused no ill effect upon the faith her subjects had in their empress.

“My dear people, I am pleased that you all value and love me. But if you do respect and love me as you so claim, then I ask that you trust the man that I trust with our fates! Please, my people, I beg of you!”

With that, she deeply bowed her head. The citizens gathered below were caught completely off guard by the gesture and began to panic. To the people of the Holy Capital, the þjóðann was a living god—someone to worship and to respect.

And yet she had bowed her head to ask something of them.

To them, it was a completely unprecedented, shocking event.

“P-Please raise your head, Your Majesty!”

“We’ll trust him! We swear we’ll trust him!”

“If it’s by your word, then we’ll listen to anything you tell us to do!”

The tide had shifted. The appeals of the young woman who had waded into the midst of her people and continually sang a galdr of calming for them began to stir their hearts. Yuuto felt his eyes sting. Rífa’s efforts—her sincerity, the work she had put in for her people at the cost of her life—had taken root in the hearts of the people of the city. Rífa’s efforts had not been in vain, and he felt a deep flood of joy at that realization.

“What are you crying for? I’ve come all the way out here to set the stage for you. Go and do your job. Such a troublesome husband you are.”

“...Pardon?”

“Juuust kidding. I’m pretty sure that’s what Rífa would’ve said, though.” Mitsuki then teasingly winked at Yuuto. Her voice and expression had returned to that of the childhood love he had known for most of his life. However, her oration and the words she had spoken in the moments before were those of Rífa, not Mitsuki.

“Now, go on.”

“Y-Yeah...”

Mitsuki then smacked him on the back. Yuuto wobbled as he stepped forward. When he raised his face, he saw the faces of the city’s people. There wasn’t a trace of the distrust they had directed toward him just moments earlier. As a man—and as their ruler—he couldn’t afford to just stand there gaping after she’d put in that much effort to set the stage for him.

“Phew. Somehow managed to pull off one of the things I promised I’d do for Rífa.” Yuuto let out a long sigh of relief as he departed the city square in his carriage.

It took an immense amount of energy to move something that was stationary. That said, once that thing started moving, the laws of momentum would take over, and it would keep moving on its own. The same was true of people’s hearts as well. The most difficult thing was getting them to take that first step.

Moving his people out of Yggdrasil was one of Yuuto’s most fervent wishes—one he had spent the past year working toward—and among the cities of Yggdrasil, he had expected Glaðsheimr would be one of the most difficult to convince given its large population and his short tenure as their leader. He had been struggling to figure out how to deal with that most difficult obstacle, but the process had gone much more smoothly than expected. His sense of relief at accomplishing the task was profound.

“It really was thanks to you, Mitsuki. Honestly, you were so much like Rífa that I almost had a heart attack,” Yuuto said with unstinting praise for his wife, who was currently sitting across from him. While Mitsuki and Rífa had been identical in appearance, their personalities were extremely different. The same was true of their demeanor and aura. Despite that, when Mitsuki gave her speech, she appeared to be much like Rífa.

“Heh, well, I’d spent the past few months practicing, with Fagrahvél’s help, of course.”

“No, you had no need for my help. You knew Lady Rífa better than I did,” Fagrahvél said with a mix of emotions on her face. On one hand, she was clearly happy that her beloved little sister had a friend that knew her that well, but on the other, she was struggling internally with the fact that someone else knew Rífa better.

“That’s not true! I mean, yeah, I look similar, but it’s still a different body, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, Fagrahvél, since you knew who I used to be.”

“Mm? Who you used to be?”

“Oh! Uh... I meant Rífa. I was caught up in the role.”

“Oh, I see.”

Yuuto had heard that there were method actors who got so absorbed in their roles that the line separating their acting and their true personality often became blurred. It was the sort of acting where one became engulfed in the role—where they could practically become possessed by the character. Even Yuuto, who had known Mitsuki since childhood, hadn’t realized that she had such a potent hidden talent.

“Well, anyway, you really did save me out there. I wouldn’t have been able to deal with it by myself.”

“Tee hee. It’s a wife’s job to support her husband from the shadows, after all!”

“I really am blessed to have such a wonderful wife.”

He sincerely felt that way. It wasn’t just Mitsuki either. While he couldn’t bring himself to say it in front of his formal wife, without the support of the women in his life like Rífa, Felicia, Sigrún, Linnea, and Ingrid, he felt he would’ve already been crushed under the weight of his countless burdens, and he likely wouldn’t be sitting here today. For that reason, he needed to steel himself now and do everything he could to pay them back for their support. As a man, he felt that it was his duty to do so.

“Everything else from here on is my job. You take the kids and head to Útgarðar.”

“Yuu-kun... You’re staying here?”

“At least until the people of Álfheimr get to Jötunheimr.”

Yuuto shrugged with a dry laugh.

He had also considered a journey that took a northern route around the Þrymheimr Mountains and going to Jötunheimr through the Miðgarðr region, but the climate of Miðgarðr was unpredictable. It was also the territory of nomadic clans such as the remnants of the Panther Clan and the Cloud Clan, meaning it was extremely likely that the people passing through would face raids by those clans along the way. Because of those matters, there was no choice but to go through the Ásgarðr region. In order to succeed in that effort, it was necessary to hold the enemy here at Glaðsheimr for a while longer.

“Are you sure it’ll be okay? I mean, you’re facing the Oda Nobunaga, right?” Mitsuki asked with a worried expression.

She was from Japan as well, so while she only knew of his reputation, even she could tell that Oda Nobunaga, who had swiftly brought a hundred years of civil war to an end, was a remarkable man and difficult opponent. Yuuto had also lost to him in battle. It would have been stranger if she wasn’t concerned for his well-being.

“I mean, if it was at all possible, I’d rather not fight him either. That old man’s pretty damned scary.”

Yuuto believed that he, more than anyone in Yggdrasil, knew just how frightening an opponent Oda Nobunaga was. After all, he had learned everything he could about the man’s history, his life, and his values in order to survive here in Yggdrasil. To Yuuto, Nobunaga was a mentor and a teacher. Yuuto had further realized just how remarkable the man was in the flesh rather than on paper by actually facing him. He was wholly unconvinced that he’d be able to truly beat him. He felt that some of that subconscious fear had led to his defeat in the last campaign. He had been overawed by his opponent before he even fought him.

“Well, I’ll do something about it. He’s a monstrously devious old man, but I’m starting to spot some of his weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?”

“Yeah, and this is his greatest one of all.”

With that, Yuuto took an object out of his fob. It was an old, battered mirror. Mitsuki tilted her head curiously at the sight.

“That’s his weakness?”

“Well, not this itself, but yeah.”

Yuuto peered into the mirror and smiled. The mirror’s surface was blurred and didn’t show anything. Even so, it seemed Yuuto saw something in that mirror.

“Oh? Gimlé’s abandoned, is it?” Upon hearing the report from his western forces, Nobunaga raised his brows. Even he hadn’t foreseen this as a possibility. What immediately came to mind was his talk with Yuuto at Stórk.

“Hrmph. Seems he really does intend to evacuate his people from Yggdrasil.”

“Our scouts report that he’s in the process of moving the citizens out of Glaðsheimr, as well,” Ran responded.

“Heh. Interesting indeed...” Nobunaga said as a smile began to form upon his features.

Unusually for a Warring States Period warlord, Nobunaga had moved his castle of residence, complete with his retainers and the people of the castle’s surrounding city, with him several times. It was part of his effort to separate his samurai from their attachment to their lands and create a fully professional army he could move as he wished, but it was enough to give him experience with just how difficult it was to move a large population out of their settled lands.

“I’m impressed that he’s managed to move this many at once.”

Nobunaga always praised those who produced results, even if they happened to be an enemy. In fact, it was precisely because they were enemies that he would evaluate them properly instead of underestimating them.

“If we just stand by and let them move on, we can probably obtain Glaðsheimr without a fight. What do you wish to do, My Lord?” Ran asked in confirmation. They were the words of a man who stuck largely to rational considerations and disliked any wasted effort.

The Flame Clan Army numbered one hundred thousand. It wasn’t that he doubted its ability to win, but Ran probably wanted to suggest that it would still be better to win without fighting if that was an option. Understanding what his Second meant, Nobunaga bared his teeth in a predatory grin.

“Well, we’ll crush them, of course.”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

Ran sighed with a tired and resigned expression. He had known Nobunaga for a long time. He was entirely aware of what Nobunaga’s answer was going to be.

“I can’t very well call myself the conqueror of the known world by picking up my enemy’s leavings. That’s a humiliation of the worst sort. You know my way! If I want something, I will obtain it with my own efforts!”

Nobunaga gripped his hand into a fist. His conqueror’s aura flowed from his body, and he made his desire to fight evident. He had been calm and settled since he had arrived in Yggdrasil, but the existence of a powerful opponent at this late juncture had revealed his true, aggressive nature.