Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria - Volume 18 - Chapter 2

ACT 2

Sleipnir was the name given to the eight great highways that Wotan, the first þjóðann and founder of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire, had laid down across Yggdrasil two hundred years ago. The name of the road network made it sound grander than it was—they were unpaved and had simply been cleared of any vegetation and large boulders. Of course, even something this simple was an enormous improvement for the merchants at the time. They were the main arteries for trade across Yggdrasil. The reason why Yuuto was able to so quickly establish his post station system in his territories was because of the work of his predecessors. Without Sleipnir, even establishing a useful network of post stations between Bifröst and Álfheimr would have been a massive undertaking requiring anything from five to ten years. Among the eight major highways of the Sleipnir, the most well-traveled and best protected was Gjallarbrú, the road linking the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr and southern Ásgarðr. This was partly due to the influence of the late Hárbarth, former patriarch of the Spear Clan and High Priest of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire.

“Huh, it looks pretty good.”

Yuuto was currently visiting one of the main hubs along the Gjallarbrú. It was surrounded by steep mountains, and though they were smaller than the Three Great Mountain Ranges, they were still formidable mountains in their own right. To the east stretched the great woods known as the Fensalir, and to the west were the treacherous Great Fjörgyn Marshes. These obstacles were the very reason why this was the route typically taken when going to the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr from the Ásgarðr region or Helheim region. So, for that reason...

“Yes. We were able to block it off quite effectively,” Fagrahvél, the Sword Clan patriarch, replied to Yuuto’s comment. While the planning and management of this project had been conducted by Jörgen, she had been the one who had directed the construction on the ground. Her expression was confident and showed a great sense of accomplishment. That was natural; her work was just that exceptional.

“What in the blazes is this...?!” Even Hveðrungr, who was intimately familiar with Yuuto’s absurd accomplishments, spent a good couple of minutes staring in shock before letting out a cry of surprise. Yuuto had constructed a fortified wall that stretched for six kilometers, towered ten meters above the ground, and was five meters thick. He had completely blocked off the Gjallarbrú highway.

Yuuto’s objective wasn’t to defeat the Flame Clan Army; all he wanted to do was hold them off long enough to finish his migration, which was why he had come up with the idea of physically blocking off their advance.

“Th-That wasn’t here during the last campaign! Y-Yuuto, h-h-how did you build something this big in just three months?!”

“Big Brother, we’re in public...”

“Huh? Oh, right... Sorry.”

Observing Felicia’s anxious reaction, Hveðrungr hurriedly lowered his voice. That said, the fact that he was still speaking in so casual a tone showed just how much the sight had shaken him.

This was an age where manual labor was necessary to construct something of this size. The sheer scale of something like this would ordinarily require years of labor. As Hveðrungr noted, it should have been impossible to build something of this size in just three months.

“So, how did you prepare something of this size and bring it here?”

“I couldn’t have done it from scratch. This has always been a hub for transportation, so there was already a fortress here, and I imagine Nobunaga considered it a major supply route. He’d left two siege castles in his wake, so I just decided to connect them together to form this wall.”

It was the same way that the Great Wall of China had been built. However, Hveðrungr wasn’t satisfied with that explanation. “I see. Still, that’s not enough to make the timeline work. How in the world did you manage to bring this many bricks to this place?!”

Hveðrungr’s question was perfectly understandable. Given that this region was originally woodland, the soil was rich and absorbed water well, meaning it wasn’t well suited for crafting bricks. The bricks had to be brought in from a region rich in clay earth.

“Ah, as for that... Well, look over there.” Yuuto’s lips curled up into a grin, and he pointed at a wheelbarrow sitting nearby.

Wheelbarrows were an invention that Yuuto had brought about relatively early in his stint as patriarch in order to improve the efficiency and carrying ability of supply companies, but he had spent the last year steadily mass-producing them in preparation for this mass migration. Given their ubiquity and their simplicity, most modern people tended to assume that wheelbarrows were an ancient invention, but they were actually a relatively recent innovation, having first been created in 1921, and modern wheelbarrows were a revolutionary product that were completely different from handcarts.

Traditional carts fitted with wooden wheels required them to be frequently replaced. Making the wheels out of iron contributed greatly to increased durability and also ended up reducing the weight of the cart. Further, by wrapping the wheels in rubber tires, the tires absorbed shocks from the ground and reduced the amount of damage to the wheels while also reducing vibrations, dramatically increasing the lifespan of the cart itself as a result.

Another innovation was to make the cart itself out of metal, simplifying the construction and lightening the weight of the cart as a whole. Additionally, putting independent wheels on either side of the cart allowed the cart to have a lower center of gravity, which provided more stability, greater carrying capability, and a substantial increase in maneuverability. Then there was the implementation of bearings in the wheels. This reduced the amount of force required to move the cart and made it much easier to pull. The modern wheelbarrow was a marvelous innovation that had been improved upon time and time again.

Of course, it was difficult to reproduce all of those improvements using Yggdrasil’s level of technology, and there were quite a few that Yuuto had left out of his final design. For example, mass-producing metal frames was impossible using Yggdrasil’s technology, so the carts themselves were still made of wood, while the lack of rubber trees in Yggdrasil made rubber tires a non-starter. Factice made a decent substitute, particularly since it was easy to make a rubbery material out of vegetable oil, ash, and sulfur, but it was noticeably inferior to rubber in terms of quality. As a result, the wheelbarrows Yuuto had created were only a facsimile of a modern wheelbarrow. However, they were still several thousand years ahead of the technology level of Yggdrasil, and they were an enormous improvement over existing products designed to serve a similar purpose.

“I see. So they’re easier to move, can carry more, the wheels are tougher, and they’re maneuverable. I can see how that’d vastly improve carrying ability,” Hveðrungr commented in apparent understanding.

“Indeed, they were like a gift from the gods themselves. Frankly, without them, it wouldn’t have been possible to complete this fortification in time,” Fagrahvél responded and nodded in agreement. Given that she had been in charge of the work done here, she was well aware of just how useful the wheelbarrows had been in the construction effort.

“Nah, even if they’re really useful, they’re still just tools. The reason we got this up in time is mostly thanks to you and Jörgen. Well done, Fagrahvél.” With that, Yuuto gently patted Fagrahvél on the shoulder. There was no trace of flattery in his words—he meant everything he’d just said. “In particular, the shift system must have taken a lot of trial and error.”

“No, Lord Jörgen dealt with most of those issues. All I did was follow his directions.” While Fagrahvél shook her head modestly, this construction project had required the services of around twenty thousand workers from the various Steel Clan territories. Even if Jörgen had made the necessary preparations, directing that many people and implementing a shift system that was, until this point, foreign to Yggdrasil must have required an enormous amount of effort. There was no doubt that without Fagrahvél’s skill and charisma as a leader, it wouldn’t have been possible to complete the project. It was a testament to her ability that had made her patriarch of one of the Ten Great Clans and the commander of the former Anti-Steel Clan Alliance Army.

“While I hate to ruin the mood, a fortification is rather pointless if the enemy has trebuchets, no? The reports from Gashina indicate they’ve got their own now.” Hveðrungr snorted a bit sourly. It was perfectly in character for him, and his critique was accurate. Walls made of piled brick wouldn’t be able to withstand bombardment by trebuchets. Yuuto had already accounted for that, though.

“Everything’ll be fine. I’ve already taken steps against that. Major ones, in fact.” Yuuto grinned confidently. It was immediately afterward they received news of the Flame Clan Army’s arrival.

“Hrm. That didn’t exist last time we were here, did it?” As he gazed upon the walls that stretched out before him, even Nobunaga couldn’t help but be flabbergasted. During his last campaign against Glaðsheimr, he had passed through this region. He had previously received reports that the Steel Clan was engaged in a massive building project here. He had assumed they wouldn’t be able to produce much in a few months and hadn’t dug any deeper given the extreme security around it, but... “Just how far does this run?”

“According to the scouts, it’s completely blocked off the Gjallarbrú Pass.”

“Oh? A bit like Liu Bang’s entry into Guanzhong,” Nobunaga said with amusement as he rubbed his chin. When he was young, Nobunaga had been educated on the broad history of China by his tutor Takugen Souon. He still recalled the excitement of learning about the conflict between Xiang Yu and Liu Bang as they fought to claim the title of king by being the first to enter Guanzhong.

“I suppose this is my version of the Hangu Pass of the East, eh?” Nobunaga referred to the great gate fortress that had blocked the entrance to Guanzhong. Even Liu Bang, the man who had founded the great Han Dynasty, had given up on trying to bring down that fortress.

“Then shall we take a lesson from the past and go around it as well?” Ran, his Second, asked. Liu Bang had gone around the Hangu Pass and instead had bought off the commander of the Wu Pass in order to gain entry to Guanzhong. Instead of razing this enormous structure, they had the option of either going around through Jötunheimr in the east or circling around Lake Hvergelmir to get to the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr. That was what Ran was suggesting.

“Indeed. That would be the wise choice,” Nobunaga replied and nodded in agreement.

It was easy to tell that this pass would be difficult to traverse, not to mention that this was something constructed by the Steel Clan reginarch, a man who possessed knowledge from a period far beyond Nobunaga’s own era. There was a high probability that it included all sorts of innovations that he couldn’t even begin to imagine. As Ran said, instead of attacking such a powerful fortification, it would be better to travel via a different route or to divide his army in three and attack from three directions. That would definitely be the safer option.

However, Nobunaga quickly shot down Ran’s proposal. “No, Ran. That’s the way a general or a regional lord might think. It’s not the way of a conqueror.”

“A conqueror, My Lord?”

“Yes. One must prove to any and all who will witness them that one is a true conqueror. Doing things in the shadows like a thief damages one’s credibility.”

“I-I see.” While Ran nodded at his comment, it seemed he didn’t quite grasp what Nobunaga meant.

“A conqueror must act the part. He may use whatever underhanded methods he wishes beneath the surface, but he cannot afford to do that at the pivotal moment. Otherwise, it leaves questions about his worthiness.”

“You mean others will resent him for it?”

Upon hearing Ran’s response, Nobunaga couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle. It seemed Ran had completely misinterpreted him. However, he had no intention of chastising him. After all, Ran was an extremely capable man. He was quick-witted and capable of understanding Nobunaga’s intentions, making the necessary preparations behind the scenes. Ran was also an extremely competent administrator, worthy of being tasked with dealing with governing the Flame Clan as its Second. In the end, though, he was one who served. A man whose character made him a great general, but not a ruler. It was understandable why he couldn’t grasp Nobunaga’s meaning.

“No. Simply put, no one will accept that man as the ruler of all under heaven.”

While Liu Bang had entered Guanzhong by bribing the fortress commander, he would eventually be laid low by Xiang Yu’s superior military strength, and he had been forced to kowtow to Xiang Yu at the Feast of the Swan Goose Gate and beg for his life. Then, soon after he had thrown aside the terms of the truce he had sealed with Xiang Yu and became conqueror by catching Xiang Yu off guard, Liu Bang had continually been plagued by rebellions by his own generals.

According to Suoh Yuuto, Akechi Mitsuhide, the man who had attacked Nobunaga at Honno-ji Temple and had claimed the title of conqueror, had been abandoned by his allies and been slain by Hideyoshi. Hideyoshi had then gone on to establish himself as conqueror with an army of two hundred thousand in his conquest of Odawara, while Ieyasu had secured his place as conqueror by winning the great battle of Sekigahara. Nobunaga went on at length about those points to Ran, then gripped his hand into a tight fist.

“Do you understand, Ran? If a conqueror doesn’t adequately prove his strength, he can’t maintain a hold over his conquest.”

“I... I see... Now I understand, My Great Lord. The extent of your foresight is truly moving. For you to be considering not only this current war but all matters that come after it? You plainly are the only one worthy of ruling this land, My Great Lord.” Ran knelt on one knee and trembled with emotion. Nobunaga simply snorted without amusement.

“Hrmph. No, that’s not true. Suoh Yuuto seems to be of the same mind.”

“Pardon?!”

As he watched Ran recoil in shock, Nobunaga chuckled. “He wouldn’t think to build this ludicrous thing if he wasn’t certain I wouldn’t bother going around it.”

“It’s rather unlikely that he didn’t consider the possibility of you doing so, My Great Lord.”

“Indeed. No doubt he had learned that I wouldn’t make a decision like that.”

“Then you’ll accept his challenge?”

“Yes. I’ll take down his impregnable fortress with a frontal attack. That’ll show the people of this land that I’m the true master, the one true conqueror. If I can’t, then that just means that I’ve reached my limit as a man.”

He was going to make hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of lives, obey the whims of his ego. It was a dangerous sort of pride, the sort that could very well destroy his own clan. Nobunaga believed that was an acceptable risk. A ruler needed a certain amount of arrogance; that was the only way they could carry the burden of the countless lives that they were responsible for. Those without that arrogance would be crushed under the weight of the lives in their grasp. Not only that, but a ruler needed to be one who could maintain that arrogance at all times. Only the most foolish would be able to maintain that sort of hubris. But it was only that sort of great fool who could accomplish great deeds.

Nobunaga grinned and made his pronouncement. “Let us get started, Ran! This is truly the battle that will determine the fate of this land! Make certain you’re aware of it!”

“It seems the Flame Clan Army will be focusing all of their forces on this fortress.”

“Thank goodness for that. Looks like our bet’s paid off for the moment.”

As he listened to Kristina’s report, Yuuto let out a sigh of relief. While he had been almost certain his plan would work, there was still the faint chance it wouldn’t go as he had intended. So far so good, at least.

“Events have unfolded as you expected, Father,” she continued. “However, I’m having trouble believing it even after seeing it for myself. According to my information, Oda Nobunaga is an extreme pragmatist who prefers to do whatever is most effective at any given moment.”

“That describes him pretty well.” Yuuto had no intention of denying that fact. Few rulers in Japan’s history had been such thorough pragmatists and realists when it came to their policies.

“It’s obviously far more efficient for him to divide his forces between the western and eastern passes as opposed to marching the entire army on a fortress like this one,” Kristina said, working through it mentally.

“That’s true. It’s definitely more efficient—if you only consider this particular campaign, that is,” Yuuto said with a dry laugh. Certainly, it was much better for Nobunaga to divide his forces in three directions and use his overwhelming numbers to his advantage. The Flame Clan Army had, in fact, used that exact strategy when cutting apart the Lightning Clan. “The only great powers left on Yggdrasil are the Steel and Flame Clans. Because of that, he’ll most likely move in a way that’s more effective in the long run rather than just for this war.”

“But this war will be the one that decides the conqueror of this continent, no?”

“That’s exactly why he’s moving the way he is.”

Even when he was back in the Land of the Rising Sun, Nobunaga had started to carry himself in a manner worthy of a man who was to become the conqueror of the entire country right around the time he began his support of Ashikaga Yoshiaki. As part of that, he had forbidden his forces from taking part in any form of looting or pillaging when he took Kyoto from the Miyoshi Clan. In the past, he had permitted his forces to go on looting sprees after other wars, and in his own first battle, Nobunaga had burned Kiyosu Castle to the ground. Additionally, he had constructed Azuchi Castle not only as a military fortification, but also to serve as a symbol of his clan’s political and economic might.

In the final battle that would decide the conqueror of Yggdrasil, Nobunaga would be focused on making sure he won in such a way that made his military superiority so clear that no one else in the land would dare resist him. This was the same approach he had taken back in his homeland. To Yuuto, that seemed perfectly rational and pragmatic. However...

“Hrm.” It seemed Kristina couldn’t accept that thought process.

Her own argument was logically sound. In most cases, people who were concerned with form would lose to those who would do anything to achieve their ends. However, Yuuto had grasped instinctively that only people who could flip such accepted wisdom on its head were the ones capable of conquering an entire land. It just struck him as an obvious truth. While he had no awareness of it himself, that insight was what marked him as someone worthy of being a conqueror as well. It was exactly why a clash between Yuuto and Nobunaga was inevitable. Just as there couldn’t be two suns in the sky, a single land couldn’t have two conquerors.

“It’s rather peaceful, isn’t it?” Shiba looked upon the soldiers spread out below him and curled his lips into a grin. They were properly assembled in formation and were quietly awaiting orders from their commanders. This was the first time since their conquest of Gimlé that they had managed to do something as simple as that.

Recently, such gatherings had typically degenerated into scuffles among the men. They initially began with a handful of soldiers asking for permission to return home, and those men would then be joined by others who held the same desires. Those soldiers would be insulted and taunted by their more bloodthirsty peers, and the situation would quickly escalate into an all-out brawl. No matter how much he leveraged his authority as general to clamp down on such conflicts, a single spark was all it would take to reignite the flames of chaos. That was the state his army had fallen into.

At long last, things were back to normal. The soldiers were gathered at attention, and not a single one uttered an unnecessary word. None of them were demotivated or broken—they all had a powerful determination in their eyes, and their renewed will to fight added a pleasant tension to the air which tickled at Shiba’s skin.

“Heh. I can do plenty of fighting with troops like these,” Shiba said with a look of great satisfaction. While he had more numbers at his disposal in the past, there was no coordination or discipline among them. There had been a constant stream of problems that plagued his army, and every time it set out for battle, it was at risk of complete organizational collapse. Now, however, the soldiers were all surprisingly motivated to fight. There was no longer any conflict among them, and if anything, they had come together as a single unit, viewing each other as precious companions and comrades. They were quick to follow his orders. The Flame Clan Army had finally stopped acting like a glorified mob and was functioning as a proper army once again. “This is all thanks to Brother Kuuga taking all the troublemakers with him.”

Kuuga’s first request had been simple. He had asked to lead all of the soldiers who wanted to return home—that is, all of the men who had come into great wealth as a result of their looting—back to the current base of the Flame Clan Army’s Fifth Division, the old Lightning Clan capital of Bilskírnir. The request had made an immediate impact.

Currently, the only soldiers left in Gimlé were the ones who had, through bad luck, missed out on the treasures that had been scattered around the city. When they had seen other soldiers rejoicing over the treasure they’d found, those soldiers couldn’t help but focus upon their own misfortune and their jealousy toward their newly wealthy companions. Because of that, the best solution was to remove all the soldiers who had struck it rich. Once that had happened, the avaricious gaze of the remaining soldiers would switch from their fellow soldiers to the next target—the remaining cities of the Steel Clan.

Next time, they would be the ones to find and obtain treasure. The remaining Flame Clan soldiers in Gimlé had rallied around that simple desire.

“Yes, but there’s still something off. It just doesn’t seem in character for him.” It was Shiba’s adjutant Masa who voiced that concern, his brows knitted in suspicion.

“Indeed. It’s an unusually bold step for my brother to take.”

Certainly, morale had improved dramatically, and discipline had returned to the army, but in exchange for that, Shiba now only had around five thousand men left. At one point, he had over twenty thousand under his command, so his forces were now a quarter of their original strength.

Numbers were all important in war. Even if it was sometimes necessary to take a hatchet to an army to get it to function again, it still took a certain amount of nerve to take such decisive action. Furthermore, the current invasion was on Nobunaga’s direct orders. Taking the majority of the invading forces and retreating despite those orders risked being handed down a severe punishment such as ritual suicide or banishment. Kuuga had never been a man with the nerve to take such decisive action under that level of pressure, even if he was driven to it by necessity. Ordinarily, he would have steadily tried various measures to see if there wasn’t some way to maintain his current force structure. That was more in character for him.

“Still, I’m the one who’s responsible for this scheme.”

The proposal and the execution should all be done in Shiba’s name. That had been Kuuga’s second request. Kuuga had already piled up a large number of mistakes during this campaign, and he couldn’t afford to draw any more of Nobunaga’s ire. However, that seemed to be the point that made the least sense to Masa. “It’s quite a strange choice to make. It is rather prudent of him to want to avoid any further blame, but he may as well be giving all of the credit for this campaign’s further success to you, Big Brother.”

“Well, yeah.” Shiba shrugged his shoulders with a dry chuckle. Though he was now down to an army of five thousand, Shiba was still considered the most ferocious of the Flame Clan’s generals. He would easily be able to overwhelm the hesitant forces of the Steel Clan, even with this hamstrung army of his. “But that’s already been accounted for. He’s asked me to get the Great Lord’s forgiveness in exchange for that success.”

“That’s the part that I can’t understand. He would never ask you for a favor like that, even if the world flipped over on its head,” Masa said with an expression of clear skepticism. That was something that had bugged Shiba as well. Regardless, Masa continued. “I mean, sure, that’s the most realistic and pragmatic solution. However, I know full well that he thoroughly despises and resents you, Big Brother.”

“That’s not something to say to someone about their sole living relative, you know,” Shiba replied.

“Eh, you’re not the sort to get hurt by something like that, Big Brother.”

“That’s very true.” Once again, Shiba shrugged with a dry laugh.

Ordinarily, it should have been an unpleasant prospect to be hated and despised by one’s only living relative, even if that relative was someone that individual didn’t even like to begin with. However, the key phrase there was “should have been.” Shiba was wholly unaffected by the idea of that hatred; it was simply a fact that he had to deal with. Most people were hurt when harsh truths like that were laid bare before them. Shiba honestly couldn’t understand why that was, given that clinging onto lies wouldn’t do a thing to change reality. He also couldn’t understand why the soldiers had wanted to go home so badly. Certainly, he understood the logical reasoning, but the emotional aspect of their request had entirely failed to resonate with him.

According to their spies, the Horn Clan capital of Fólkvangr was also practically abandoned. While the residents had fled and left it an empty shell, there was a fair chance that there would be treasure scattered within it, just like Gimlé. So long as the soldiers followed his orders, if they invaded the abandoned Horn Clan capital, they’d be able to revel in another looting spree. However, they’d abandoned that opportunity because they were so fixated on going home with their current gains. Shiba couldn’t begin to understand why they had made that decision. This sort of thing was probably why Old Man Salk had told him that he couldn’t understand the feelings or motivations of the weak.

“In my brother’s eyes, his current situation was probably rather dire. After all, the Great Lord regards him as having a sharp eye for taking decisive action when cornered.”

It was true that Kuuga hated Shiba and sometimes took irrational actions as a result of that. His rushed assault upon Fort Gashina was perhaps the epitome of that sort of reckless irrationality. However, at the same time, Kuuga was extremely smart and strongly concerned with self-preservation.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that. But I just can’t shake the feeling that something is off.”

“Hrmph.” Shiba rubbed his chin and grunted. In truth, like Masa, he felt there was something strange about everything that was going on. The intuition that had seen him through countless dangerous situations was screaming out to him that something was wrong. However, he had subconsciously silenced that warning bell because he simply didn’t believe there was any possibility of something else brewing.

In the end, people would always make the rational choice. They’d take the course of action that gave them the greatest advantage. At the very least, he was convinced that people with a bare minimum of intelligence would behave that way. That was because Shiba himself was that way.

This was exactly what blinded him, however. He knew on a hypothetical level as a result of his own research that there were people who prioritized their feelings first and foremost and would happily throw away rational actions even in times of crisis, but he simply could not understand why people would actually do such things. The idea of someone following their passions and abandoning any calculations of their own gains and losses was completely nonsensical to him. Because of Shiba’s strength, the entire concept was simply far too removed from his own experiences.

“Princess, I bring good news! I’m told the Flame Clan Army has started its withdrawal.”

“Oh? Good!”

Linnea’s expression lit up as Cler barged into her office to give her the news. She had heard the invading force had fallen into internal squabbling as a result of the treasure she had seeded in Gimlé, and that was probably why the Flame Clan forces were retreating.

“This should give us a good opportunity to sort out the migration of the people of western Álfheimr.”

“Definitely,” Linnea said, nodding in agreement. It was only yesterday that they’d been given word that the Panther Clan’s people had started their migration.

This was an era with no cars. Also, not everyone had a carriage. There would be many who would be carrying rather heavy loads with them as they walked the path eastward. It went without saying that these things would slow them down considerably. It would take a substantial amount of time for the people of western Álfheimr to make their way to Iárnviðr. Thankfully, it now appeared that they would be able to buy enough time to allow the migrants to reach Iárnviðr. That was the best possible news she could have received.

“While I’m glad the plan worked, I can’t shake some lingering anxiety about all of this,” Linnea said with a furrowed brow.

“Anxiety? Is there something that stands out to you as a risk?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I guess it’s just habit at this point.” Linnea shrugged with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Despite her youth, Linnea was a skilled ruler who had long dealt with the perils of governing, first as patriarch of the Horn Clan and then as Second of the Steel Clan. She had been reminded countless times that things never proceeded according to plan. No matter how detailed and precise the planning, there would always be unexpected problems that cropped up, and the timeline would continually be pushed back to accommodate those problems. But in this case, while there had been an unexpected development, rather than make the situation worse, it had made things substantially better. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, however.

“It’s just too different from usual. I can’t help but think that the other sandal might drop at any moment,” she admitted.

“Ah ha, I see. While I believe that cautiousness is one of your great virtues, too much worry is bad for the child in your womb, ma’am.”

“I know that, but...”

“Princess, you have spent much of your life sacrificing for the sake of your people. No doubt the gods above have been watching all of your efforts. Perhaps this is a gift from them.”

“Heh. I hope that’s what it is.” Linnea’s smile twitched for a moment before she let out a soft chuckle.

Cler was rather pious, perhaps because as an Einherjar he felt the gods as a presence in his life. Given that in Yggdrasil it was still common to conduct trials by throwing a person in a river and determining their guilt by whether or not they drowned, the belief that the gods were heavily involved with fate was, if anything, what passed for common sense.

However, Linnea couldn’t believe that the gods were all that interested in what happened in this world. They weren’t so merciful that they’d reward people who had done good deeds. Gods were capricious and didn’t care about humans. If they truly cared about humanity, the world wouldn’t be so full of suffering. That was the reality that Linnea had seen in her relatively brief life.

And this time, her views were about to be vindicated. The news of the arrival of the Flame Clan’s invading army, a revelation that would send shockwaves through the people in Iárnviðr, would come just three days after this conversation.

“I’m sure you’re already aware, but the Flame Clan Army that had been occupying Gimlé have resumed their march upon us. Based on the direction of their advance, their objective is probably here, in Iárnviðr,” Linnea said solemnly to the faces assembled around the round table. While there were a few who were currently occupied at the Holy Capital, such as the Wolf Clan patriarch, Jörgen, and the Horn Clan Second and master archer, Haugspori, most of the important members of the two clans, such as Cler of the Brísingamen and the Wolf Clan’s head elder, Bruno, were present. Their expressions were all tense.

“According to reports from our spies, the Flame Clan Army numbers a bit under five thousand. While we currently have roughly the same number of soldiers here in Iárnviðr, the enemy is being led by Shiba, reputed to be one of their greatest generals. A direct battle will almost certainly end in our defeat.”

No one argued with Linnea’s grim assessment of the situation. Even the young Cler, confident and aggressive about combat because of his youth, remained silent.

But that was understandable. Shiba’s reputation as a warrior was well known in the Steel Clan from his accomplishments during the Flame Clan’s conquest of the Lightning and Wind Clans, and while the report that he had thoroughly overwhelmed Sigrún, the Steel Clan’s greatest warrior and Mánagarmr, had been classified, everyone present who had access to that level of information was aware of what had transpired between them. The only people who could confidently state that they could defeat such a monster were either the very best warriors in all of Yggdrasil or the most foolish of ignoramuses. However, neither of those were currently seated around the table. Whether this was a good or bad thing was hard to determine.

After noting that her words had adequately reached the assembled council, Linnea opened her mouth and continued. “Though that may be the case, we still need to protect Iárnviðr at all costs. In fact, we have to do more than that. We must do everything we can to drive them off. If we can’t, the people of western Álfheimr will have no place to go.”

The Wolf Clan capital of Iárnviðr that Linnea and the others currently occupied was a key city that served as the gateway into the Bifröst region. If the Flame Clan took control of the city and closed off the pass eastward, a large number of people would have their access to the Holy Capital cut off completely.

That wasn’t even the worst of it. While the Steel Clan strictly prohibited it among its ranks, in this era, enemy civilians were often subjected to pillaging and rape at the hands of a conquering army. According to Yuuto, Nobunaga had enforced discipline among his armies near the Holy Capital with the understanding that it would damage his ability to govern after his conquest, but it was questionable whether or not that discipline was enforced this far west of the Holy Capital. Linnea’s skepticism was perfectly warranted: given that they had already seen their companions strike it rich, the remaining soldiers of the invading Flame Clan Army were essentially a pack of slavering wolves.

“You had anticipated they would go to Fólkvangr first, Lady Linnea, but it appears they’ve chosen a different path,” Bruno, the Wolf Clan’s head elder, said with a faint note of bitterness. While his words were polite enough, there wasn’t a hint of respect in his tone. His attitude as he sat with his arms crossed made his disdain clear. He was openly displaying his flagrant disrespect and insubordination for all present to witness.

“You are correct. With regards to that, I can only admit that I was too optimistic.”

“P-Princess?” As Linnea admitted to her painful error, Cler let out an exclamation of surprise. That was because in politics, admitting to mistakes would provide an opening to one’s enemies. It was always better to avoid taking responsibility and to leave the blame for such developments vague. Though the concept was utterly ridiculous to her, Linnea was well aware of its necessity in the world of politics—a place rife with backstabbing and infested with wretched schemers. Even knowing that, she had outright admitted to her error because she had no interest in wasting time or playing blame games at such a critical juncture.

“That is why I’ve asked you all to gather here. Given my lack of ability, I can’t think of a way to get us out of this situation. I ask for your intelligence and strength in this time of need.” With that, Linnea deeply bowed her head.

A murmur rippled through the assembled commanders. While all of the people present held positions of authority, those positions were within subordinate organizations such as the Wolf and Horn Clans. By contrast, Linnea was the Second-in-Command for the entirety of the Steel Clan. The fact that someone of that importance had accepted responsibility for her mistake and admitted her lack of strength to solve this problem shocked the members of the Wolf Clan present, while those of the Horn Clan wanted to tell her that it wasn’t necessary for her to abase herself to this extent. However, sincerity and honesty can, at times, produce results that even the most cunning mind couldn’t accomplish. This was such a time.

“Please, raise your head, Lady Linnea.”

“Indeed. Please raise your head. We’ve been strictly ordered by Father to obey your orders, Aunt Linnea.”

“Exactly. We’ll happily lend whatever strength we have to give.”

The members of the Wolf Clan quickly spoke up in support of Linnea. Given that just a handful of years ago they had been sworn blood enemies, it was a remarkable event. While it was an extreme example, had the Claw Clan’s Botvid done the same as Linnea, the Wolf Clan members wouldn’t have believed him, and even if they had, they would have likely used the opportunity to push demands on him that would work to their advantage. The difference in response here, though partly due to her gender and appearance, was largely because of Linnea’s serious commitment to the people of the Steel Clan and her sincere, hard-working personality.

“Th-Thank you. I appreciate your assistance,” Linnea said, her voice quavering with her emotions. There were tears in her eyes as she bowed her head again. It was the moment that two clans who had long been enemies came together as one.

“Hrmph. You’re letting your emotions get the better of you. No matter how many plain fools we gather, it won’t change a blasted thing.” Bruno splashed cold water on the room’s conciliatory mood with a derisive snort. It went without saying that all eyes in the room glared at him critically. Bruno made no sign of noticing or being bothered by the critical gazes, however, and continued. “In the first place, why must we risk our lives for the Panther Clan? What obligation do we have to them?” he said simply.

Linnea felt a strong sense of déjà vu upon hearing that. Her sharp mind quickly figured out the reason. It had been two years ago when the Hoof Clan had invaded the Horn Clan. At the time, Bruno had said something similar and insisted that the Wolf Clan simply abandon the Horn Clan.

“Lord Bruno. The patriarch of the Panther Clan is Lady Sigrún, someone you know well. Her predecessor as patriarch was another former member of the Wolf Clan, Lord Skáviðr. The people of the Panther Clan are their children and their grandchildren. They have close ties to the Wolf Clan. Do you truly think you can get away with abandoning them?” Linnea spoke firmly, with no trace of hesitation or fear in her voice.

It was understandable to value your own clan’s people. Linnea felt the same way about the people of the Horn Clan. As far as she was concerned, a clan’s leadership was obligated to place their lives on the line in service of their people. After all, they collected exorbitant taxes from their subjects and often lived much better lives than the average citizen as a result of those gains. Essentially, the reason for the Steel Clan Army’s existence was to protect the people of the Steel Clan. Whether they were part of the Horn Clan or the Wolf Clan was irrelevant.

“I see. You are certainly correct. Those two and their direct subordinates are connected to the Wolf Clan, and by all accounts, I feel no hesitation about helping them. However, I still don’t see why my people should bleed for the sake of the people of the Panther Clan.” Bruno showed no shame in his statement and even had a faint smirk on his features. In his mind, clans other than the Wolf Clan were of no consequence to him.

Perhaps it was understandable. Having spent most of his life as a member of the Wolf Clan, it was probably impossible for him to consider the Steel Clan to be his home. No, it went further than that. From what Linnea had heard, after Yuuto had become patriarch of the Wolf Clan, Bruno had refused to bend his knee to Yuuto. He had refused his Chalice and instead chose to become an elder, and he continued to object to Yuuto’s rule.

As people aged, they tended to become less comfortable with change and become increasingly reactionary. For Bruno, time had stopped during the time of Fárbauti’s rule, and he hadn’t adapted to anything that had happened since.

“Head Elder, surely that’s going too far.”

“The Panther Clan, like us, are members of the Steel Clan. It would be dishonorable to abandon them here.”

Even members of the Wolf Clan began to criticize Bruno. It seemed they couldn’t contain their distaste for Bruno’s insistence toward treating the Panther Clan as a foreign clan. Those who raised the objections appeared to be in their mid-twenties to their early thirties. Judging by the things they said about the Steel Clan, it was clear they considered themselves part of and dearly loved the Steel Clan.

“The Wolf Clan has already provided our housing to people of another clan free of charge. We will also protect Iárnviðr, the key gateway to the east, to our last breath. We are doing plenty to honor our commitments. You lot need to calm down. If you act recklessly for the sake of another clan, that would defeat the whole point of our presence.”

“Mrrmph.”

“Grrrm.”

The Wolf Clan officers who had criticized Bruno frowned. Linnea couldn’t help but seriously consider his words as well. His argument was completely sound.

“So, are you suggesting that we should hole up in Iárnviðr and reinforce our defenses?” an officer asked.

“I daresay we have no other option. Fortunately, the walls of Iárnviðr are specially constructed. They should be able to withstand bombardment by trebuchets for some time. There is no reason not to make use of them,” Bruno responded.

“Mm.”

“Ah, so that’s what he meant,” thought Linnea. Iárnviðr was smaller in scale compared to Gimlé or Fólkvangr, but it was also the city that Yuuto had lived in for the longest amount of time. When he had first inherited the Wolf Clan, he was at constant risk of invasion by the Horn and Claw Clans. Because of that, he had made the decision to outfit Iárnviðr with various defensive upgrades. It was likely better defensively equipped than even the Steel Clan capital of Gimlé.

“True. Given that we’re already at a disadvantage, there’s no point in throwing away what advantages we do have.”

“Indeed. I don’t know if he’s a ferocious general or a feral general, but surely Iárnviðr, the jewel of our clan, will easily repel him. At least, so long as we don’t get too greedy.”

“Ngh.”

Even Linnea couldn’t help but react to his barbed remark. And yet, Bruno showed no sign of concern as he continued his lecture. “Besides, there’s no reason that we have to deal with this alone. The people of the Panther Clan are being escorted by the Múspell Unit, the very elite of our Wolf Clan. If we’re to defeat the invaders, then it would be most effective to do so in cooperation with them. There is value in holding tight and waiting for the right opportunity. Perhaps that sort of patience is hard for the young to understand.” Bruno finished up his remarks with another barb and added a faintly derisive snort.

Claiming the Múspells as the elite of the Wolf Clan was faintly irritating, but what he said was perfectly rational. Even based on this meeting and the fact that he maintained his calm and wasn’t affected by the mood in the room showed that, if anything, Bruno was an extremely competent individual. Whatever else he might have been, he was still the man who had been valued by Fárbauti as his right hand. He was a dependable presence to have on their side in this time of crisis. Even so, she still couldn’t bring herself to like him. Bruno was narrow-minded, reactionary, focused solely on his own clan, and had the air of a man who had been left behind by the times. He was far from likable, but he was at least competent.

“Ah, so this is Iárnviðr. I’d read about it, but those are some odd walls,” Shiba said cautiously as he gazed up at the city walls. In Yggdrasil, fortress and city walls were generally constructed of brick. However, these walls were clearly different. They looked like they had been built using stone instead. Even with that in mind, there was still something unusual about them.

“Hm, well, I guess we’ll know if it’s a paper tiger soon enough. Seems the enemy’s ready for a fight too.”

To him, the oddness of the defensive walls was a minor detail. Shiba bared his teeth in a predatory grin as he felt the pinpricks of hostility from the enemies stationed on the walls. With his level of experience, he didn’t even need to see the enemy to get a feel for the number of soldiers he faced. This feeling of hostility was clearly not something that was coming from a few dozen men, or even a few hundred. There were at least several thousand out to kill him.

“Gimlé really did turn out to be a disappointment.”

“Yep. I’m getting a bit rusty after being stuck doing nothing but paperwork afterward,” his adjutant Masa said with a dry chuckle, and Shiba nodded in agreement, rolling his arms to stretch his shoulders.

The reason Shiba followed Nobunaga was largely due to the fact that so long as he was at Nobunaga’s side, there would be wars for him to fight in. Given that he had been looking forward to a fight of unprecedented scale during this war, the fact that he hadn’t fought a single battle to date had annoyed Shiba greatly. Considering how much he had been anticipating the fights, it had been extremely frustrating for him.

“It’s quite something for you to ignore the abandoned Fólkvangr. You must really want to fight. Big Brother, your love of war is unmatched.”

“Well, it’s like I always say...”

“I know, I know. It’s not the war you love, right?” Masa quipped.

“Exactly. It’s not like I’m drunk on the bloodletting or sense of danger,” Shiba declared flatly.

There were plenty of warriors who could only truly feel alive in the excitement of battle, or those who derived great pleasure from the sense of release from the fear of death in the midst of war. But Shiba didn’t feel that he was driven by such base motives. What he sought was to master the art of battle. Of course, he was well aware that he needed to engage in constant training to achieve those heights, but there were many things that could only be found through the experience of facing life and death at the height of battle. The reason he fought was for the sake of achieving that level of mastery.

“Even so, Big Brother, it still appears as though you take joy in fighting, you know,” his closest advisor replied, coolly dismissing his argument, much to Shiba’s chagrin. It was quite the insult. However, Masa’s verbal lashing continued. “Besides, you’ve been all aflutter waiting for your opportunity to fight the Mánagarmr again.”

“Well, of course. It’s been ten years since I faced someone who could keep up with me quite like she did. I could feel my movements getting sharper in that fight. I still get a smile on my face when I think about it.” Shiba closed his eyes and recalled that last encounter, his expression softening into a look of pure bliss. When contrasted to the joy of how quickly he felt his skills being sharpened in that fight, all of the titles, wealth, and beautiful women in the world felt dull and lackluster. In the end, he had fallen completely for the enemy’s scheme, and he had felt intense dissatisfaction with that outcome, but even that had taught him he still had more to learn. It also meant that he could still get stronger. Without exaggeration, that fight was probably the best experience in his entire life.

“No matter how you phrase that, those are the words of a fighting addict.”

“Wha?! Hold on, hold on. Were you actually listening to me? Don’t lump me in with those blood-lusting beasts or those consumed by darkness.”

“Well, I’m sure it feels different to you, Big Brother.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Still, it looks the same from the outside.”

“Impossible... I can’t accept that.”

“It doesn’t matter if you can accept it or not, it’s the truth. For the love of the gods, accept that you’re a pervert with a weird fetish.”

“Calling your sworn big brother a pervert... Anyone else would have disowned you for that!”

“I wouldn’t speak this way to anyone else, Big Brother. Besides, you’d be the one in trouble if you ended our relationship. Do you have any other subordinates to whom you can push all the administrative work that you so hate onto?”

“Tch. You got me there.”

With that comment, Masa’s expression formed into a teasing smirk. In response, Shiba clicked his tongue and furrowed his brow. Of course, none of this was meant to be taken seriously. The banter was a sign of their mutual trust.

“Now, putting all that aside, while I understand your battle fetish, I feel bad for the soldiers who get dragged around by it. I mean, if we’d gone to Fólkvangr, we could’ve easily conquered it, and they might have been able to get their share of loot this time,” Masa said with an exasperated sigh. It seemed he was sympathizing with the soldiers who hadn’t found any treasure and had instead been sent to a battlefield.

“Oh, you were operating under that misunderstanding? Huh, that just shows you’re not suited to be a general. You’re too gentle,” Shiba said with a faintly furrowed brow and dry chuckle. Masa was Shiba’s most trusted retainer, and he had more than enough ability and character to lead in his own right, but the reason Shiba hadn’t made him his Second and kept him as his leader of subordinates with no inheritance rights was that he was simply too gentle. “You are right that if we had gone to Fólkvangr, we’d probably be able to occupy it without any effort. However, if they’d set a trap there like the one in Gimlé, then we’d have had huge issues moving our troops from there. We’ve finally gotten rid of the soldiers that’d grown fat from looting that city and have the freedom to move, so it would’ve been pointless to get rid of them if we then decided to go there. We can take that city later.”

From the perspective of compassion, Masa’s words were perfectly just. Most of the soldiers had already made themselves rich, and since the remaining soldiers had seen similarly dangerous battlefields, they, too, probably had the right to acquire wealth of their own. The soldiers who had been lucky enough to loot their riches had been given the chance to go home and rest on their laurels with their families, while those who were left had to risk life and limb on a dangerous battlefield. It would have been one thing had that wealth reflected individual efforts, but the wealth had been a product of luck. That made the whole situation completely unfair.

If it could be corrected, then yes, it should be corrected. However, a general, at times, needed to throw away their emotions and their compassion, and instead focus on ruthlessly pursuing their objectives. It was not a general’s duty to provide those of his men who had not yet tasted victory with some hollow version of it solely because he felt sorry for them. Doing such things would make them useless as soldiers and defeated the purpose of having an army in the first place.

“Besides, the Steel Clan is trying to abandon these lands and move their people away. There’s no point in acquiring land with no one to work it. It’s more important to take Iárnviðr first and put a lid on their movements. That’s my strategic decision.”

“O-Oh, I-I beg your pardon. I didn’t imagine there was that much thought behind your decision...” Masa hurriedly bowed his head. His face was flushed. It seemed he had been left rather embarrassed as a result of their recent banter.

“Heh, that’s fine. People have their strengths and weaknesses. If anything, you’re likely to be more skilled at things during peacetime, while I can do things in times of emergency that you can’t. That’s all it is.”

“Thank you for your consideration.”

With a dry chuckle, Masa raised his head, but a glance at his face showed that he was grappling with self-loathing. It was hard to say that he was happy with himself at the moment. The fact that he tended to linger on emotions like this, instead of moving on, was another major weakness.

“That reminds me, the commander of the western region is Linnea, their Second. I’m told she’s much like Masa: good at administrative tasks, but second-rate as a general due to her softness,” Shiba thought to himself. With his mind on the enemy commander, he looked once again to the walls and thought about the battle to come. He hoped that Linnea would prove her reputation wrong and give him a good fight. Struggle was the thing that helped people grow more than any other experience.

“Right then. Masa, now that we’re done chatting, start prepping that monster catapult.”

“Yes sir!”

Masa’s demeanor changed from that of Shiba’s friend to his subordinate, and he hurried off to give the order. Watching him depart, Shiba murmured to himself. “So, let’s see what you’ve got.”