Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria - Volume 19 - Chapter 6

ACT 6

“I’m glad you’ve returned safely.”

The þjóðann himself greeted Hveðrungr with open arms at the front gate to Valaskjálf Palace after receiving word of the man’s return to Glaðsheimr. It was a fitting welcome, given what Hveðrungr had accomplished, but Hveðrungr himself looked extremely displeased at the greeting.

“That’s quite enough. It’s creepy.”

“Ouch, that’s rather pointed of you. C’mon, I can do this much, right?”

“I can’t help but think I’m walking into a trap when you come out with a smile.”

“No need to be so harsh!”

“So, what is it you’re scheming?”

“I’m not scheming!” Yuuto said indignantly. He had come out with the sole intention of giving the brave commander of his army’s rear guard his heartfelt gratitude, so he found Hveðrungr’s suspicion and sarcasm hard to bear. Then again, he and Hveðrungr had a lot of history—a rather storied and checkered history, so Yuuto understood where Hveðrungr was coming from.

“Do you intend to fight an army of a hundred thousand without any schemes in mind?”

“Oh, that’s what you meant.”

“What else could I have meant?”

Hveðrungr curled his lips into a teasing smile that informed Yuuto that he had just been had. Then again, there was the possibility that Hveðrungr was just trying to hide his embarrassment at the warm greeting. Yuuto found it frustrating, but he knew that Hveðrungr was an irascible cynic at the best of times. He probably couldn’t bear a genuinely friendly welcome home without trying to deflect away some of the warmth with a sarcastic quip or two.

“You mentioned you intended to face them here, but it doesn’t look like this place is going to be much use as a fortress,” Hveðrungr said skeptically as he glanced at the ruins that remained of the palace’s crumbled walls.

The earthquake had been strong enough to destroy Gjallarbrú Fortress and its roman concrete walls. Even accounting for the fact that Gjallarbrú had suffered damage from the sustained bombardment from the Flame Clan’s artillery, it had been an extremely damaging earthquake, and Glaðsheimr, which wasn’t located all that far away, had suffered terribly from the quake. The giant fortifying walls that had surrounded the Holy Capital had almost completely collapsed and were of no use in keeping out enemy forces. Nearly eighty percent of Valaskjálf Palace, the largest palace in all of Yggdrasil, had collapsed. The rubble that remained in its place bore no resemblance to its former splendor.

Yuuto smiled confidently in spite of the fact that he was as aware of the damage as Hveðrungr. “More than you’d think, actually.”

Hveðrungr raised a brow in curiosity. Glaðsheimr had completely ceased to function as a fortification, providing none of the height advantages that fortified walls ordinarily gave defenders. Without the benefit of a higher line of sight or increased range for arrows, the typical adage that it took several times the number of attackers to defeat a defending army inside a fortification was clearly not going to apply.

“You’re saying you can stop the Flame Clan’s army of a hundred thousand with this pile of rubble?”

“Yeah. Not only that. I’ll be able to destroy them, in fact. I can certainly do enough damage to make it so that they can’t attack for a while.”

“What?!” Hveðrungr’s expression tensed at Yuuto’s statement. Hveðrungr had fought against Nobunaga on the battlefield as a commander. He knew from bitter experience how dangerous an opponent Nobunaga was in war.

“...Can you really do it?”

“Well, it’d be a challenge to beat that man in a straight-up fight, but this is my backyard.”

Yuuto tapped his foot against the ground. Yuuto had spent countless hours since his loss at the previous Battle of Glaðsheimr contemplating how he could defeat Nobunaga. The hours passed fruitlessly, and he had spent his days fretting over the problem, but recently he had come up with a single solution: a war plan that could only be executed here in the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr, and one that only Yuuto could bring to fruition. Yuuto’s face took on an expression of grim determination, and he held up his fist.

“I’ll do it. If it’s a wall I can’t climb, then I’ll use whatever I need to, cheating or not, to break through it.”

“This is the Holy Capital? There’s no trace of its former glory.”

Several days after Hveðrungr’s return to Glaðsheimr, the Flame Clan Army under Nobunaga’s command laid eyes upon the Holy Capital for the first time in several months. The city had completely changed in the intervening months. The great earthquake had completely destroyed the great walls that had surrounded the city, and the rubble from the fallen walls had been left scattered where it had landed.

“So, this is how it ends for the city that flourished for two centuries as the greatest in all of Yggdrasil. I suppose all good things must come to an end. It reminds me of Kyoto of old.”

Nobunaga chuckled wryly at the bitter irony.

Kyoto, despite its name as the Thousand-Year Capital, had, by Nobunaga’s time, been completely reduced to a shadow of its former glory in the aftermath of the Onin Rebellion, and looked little better than a populated ruin. The center of the city, the area around Nijo Oji, bore no resemblance to the flourishing population center it was meant to be, and by the time Nobunaga had made his visit to the capital, it looked like an overgrown rural landscape. There were still technically areas that could be described as urban, but it was restricted to tiny parts of the city in Kamikyo, north of the current Ichijo Street, and the area called Shimokyo between Sanjo Street and Gojo Street.

The emperor, supposedly the ruler of all of the Land of the Rising Sun, had been left utterly penniless, and the Imperial Household struggled to raise the necessary funds to conduct important ceremonies such as abdication or funerals. Emperor Go-Tsuchimikado’s body had lain in the palace for over forty days after his death, while his successor, Emperor Go-Kashiwabara’s coronation ceremony had only taken place twenty-two years after he had first taken the Chrysanthemum Throne.

“Well, if anything, this is for the best. I’m tired of dealing with fools whose heads are so filled with tradition and formality that they can’t even see the world in front of their eyes.”

Nobunaga furrowed his brow sourly as he remembered how much of a pain it had been to deal with the old noble families of Kyoto, those parasites whose only accomplishments in life were to have been born as the descendant of someone who had accomplished great feats decades, even centuries ago, and clung stubbornly to their decrepit and moldering traditions. The ingrates that had begged him for financial support, only to turn around and rebel against him when they had regained a semblance of authority. They had all been utterly worthless.

Nobunaga had no use for traditions that fostered and coddled such wastrels, no wish for the moldering city that they inhabited. But the process of destroying those old ways and tearing down the old cities required money and labor, and more than anything, brought about resentment from the people. In that sense, with everything already destroyed, nature had done the hard work and saved Nobunaga the cost and effort.

“So, it begins.”

Nobunaga heard a voice from behind, and he broke out into a grin as he turned around. “Ah, Ran. Are your wounds healed?”

“Yes. I apologize for causing you concern, My Lord. Some parts of me still ache, but that will not impact my ability to fulfill my duties.”

“Your loyalty is to be praised. Don’t push yourself too hard though. You’re the only one I can trust Homura to when I’m gone.”

No matter what he accomplished, no matter where he went, Nobunaga would be an annarr in Yggdrasil. His black-haired, black-eyed appearance—the simple difference between him and the people around him—meant that everyone still drew a line at which they considered him an outsider. Regardless of whether it was desired or not, so long as the nature of people remained unchanged, that tendency would stay with them. That was the true sin that all of humanity shouldered.

“For good or for ill, Homura was also born into this world with the same black hair and black eyes as us. Furthermore, she was born with twin runes. No one understands her, and she has no one she can trust as an equal. That will be her fate in life.”

Nobunaga peered far into the future and showed pity upon the tragic truth that would define his daughter’s life. Nobunaga himself had thoroughly destroyed such discrimination when it stood in his way and climbed his way within Yggdrasil’s society. But that had hardly been an easy path to walk, and he didn’t want his beloved daughter to have to deal with the same challenges.

“So long as you live, at least in terms of appearance, she won’t be alone.”

People rarely felt loneliness when they were truly by themselves; it was only when they were among a large group of people that they felt the strength of isolation.

“Stay alive, Ran. Above all else, you’re not allowed to die. That’s the order you must prioritize above all else. Understood?”

“...Yes. I understand, My Lord.”

“I know I ask a great amount of you. I trust you to see this through.”

“I will do it, even at the cost of my life.”

“Fool. I just told you not to die!” With a dry laugh, Nobunaga lightly and playfully smacked Ran on the head.

“Hah, my apologies, My Lord. A slip of the tongue.”

Ran rubbed at his head with an embarrassed laugh. Of course, Nobunaga was aware that Ran had used the phrasing on purpose. Ran had been almost deviously attentive, even as a squire. There was no way that such an intelligent and thoroughly thoughtful man who paid heed to the comfort of everyone around him would make such a thoughtless slip of the tongue. He had purposefully used that phrasing as a joke to lighten the somber mood.

“Heh. Well, let us put off the future for now and focus on what’s in front of us.”

“Yes, My Lord. If we spend too long looking into the distance, we might very well trip on a stone at our feet.”

“Indeed. Though this is a rather large stone.”

Nobunaga let out an amused chuckle. According to his spies, the Steel Clan Army of thirty thousand was still garrisoned within the city of Glaðsheimr, an odd situation given that these ruins were essentially worthless as a fortification now that it had been stripped of its walls. Did he intend to accept his loss and share the fate of the Holy Capital? No, that wasn’t like him at all.

“So, let’s see what you’ve got. This will be our final battle. Don’t disappoint me, Suoh Yuuto.” 

“So, they’re finally here,” Yuuto said casually, listening to the report of an enemy sighting as he took a bite from a piece of jerky. There was no trace of panic or fear in his voice; he seemed exceptionally calm despite the arrival of the Flame Clan Army—the very same that had defeated his own forces twice before and now numbered a hundred thousand.

“And what of their movements?”

“I’m told they’re setting up their encampment, digging ditches, and putting up their tents, Your Majesty.”

“I see. Got it. You’re dismissed. Let me know if there are any new developments.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” the messenger standing at attention said crisply before making his way out of the room.

“So, this is really happening, huh,” Yuuto said with a long, deep sigh after he confirmed the soldier had left the room. A supreme commander could never afford to show any weakness in front of his soldiers, hence his display of nonchalance, but despite the fact he had known ahead of time that the Flame Clan Army was approaching, their actual arrival still weighed on his mind.

“Yes, they’ve finally arrived,” Felicia, who was standing next to him, said with a hard, tense expression. She knew just how much of a threat the Flame Clan, and Nobunaga in particular, were in Yuuto’s eyes. Her anxiety was understandable. Still, Yuuto had no intention of feigning nonchalance in front of her. He knew from experience that keeping up such a facade was not only exhausting, but that it was likely it would crack at a critical moment. Yuuto wanted to take off that mask and air out his anxieties when he was alone with a woman he loved.

“I would have preferred if we had a little more time.”

According to the report he had received from Alexis through his divine mirror, Linnea and the others had defeated the attacking Flame Clan Army at Iárnviðr and had already dispatched reinforcements to help relieve the Holy Capital. Yuuto had almost felt his heart stop when he’d heard Sigrún had been missing for several days after the flood of the Körmt River, but she had returned safely to Iárnviðr, having slain the great general Shiba. She, too, was heading toward Glaðsheimr with her own forces and would arrive before the men Linnea had sent.

Yuuto’s hope had been that, at the very least, Sigrún and her Múspell Unit, the most elite unit of the Steel Clan and a symbol of victory for the entire clan, would arrive before the Flame Clan did. He needed every able body he could muster. Unfortunately, time had favored Nobunaga over Yuuto on this occasion.

“Well, no use griping over what I can’t fix. Besides, Big Bro bought me more than enough time.”

Since Yuuto and Felicia were alone in the tent, there was no issue with him referring to Hveðrungr as his big brother. While Yuuto was now Hveðrungr’s superior as far as Chalice oaths were concerned, Hveðrungr would become his older brother-in-law when he formally married Felicia, so technically there was no issue with him referring to Hveðrungr as “big bro.”

“Man, Big Bro’s amazing. His ruthlessness and ability to execute cold, logical plans in emergencies is something I don’t have. Honestly, I’m a bit jealous of him,” Yuuto said with a weak, self-deprecating laugh. Ruling required making hard decisions, and at times, it was necessary to discard the few for the good of the whole. Certainly, his years in Yggdrasil and experience with the brutal dog-eat-dog world it was had hardened Yuuto and given him the ability to make some harsh decisions, but...

“Sure, I show off in front of Big Bro and the others, but honestly, I’m shivering right now. I really hate the kind of person I am.”

He knew that, as someone born and raised in the peaceful society of modern Japan, he lacked the ruthless edge of people like Nobunaga or Hveðrungr. Yuuto knew that he wasn’t able to be as ruthless as he needed to be, and he keenly felt that weakness now. He had never grown accustomed to using war as anything other than a last resort. He constantly felt disgusted with needing to give orders to kill people. He was afraid of death, and he was even more afraid of losing his beloved companions.

“I do have a plan. A plan that has no equal—perhaps the best I’ve ever come up with. I’m confident that it’ll get results, but then I remember that I’m fighting the Oda Nobunaga.”

When Fárbauti had left him as patriarch of the Wolf Clan, Yuuto dove into Nobunaga’s life and history to use as one of the models for his own rule. The thing that stood out most when looking into Nobunaga’s life was his remarkable ability to make decisions in desperate situations.

The Battle of Okehazama.

The Battle of Kanegasaki.

The Battle of Tenno-ji.

They had all been battles that threatened the very existence of the Oda Clan, but Nobunaga had come up with novel and innovative solutions on the fly and executed them without hesitation.

“Will it work on him? What if it doesn’t? What happens to the Steel Clan then? What about my people? My family? I keep thinking of new things to worry about, and I feel like I’m going to go crazy from all of the anxiety,” Yuuto said, cradling his head in his hands. Had it just involved his own future, he wouldn’t be this worried, but he shouldered the fates of over a million people now. For Yuuto, who wasn’t even twenty years old yet, that was far too heavy of a burden to carry.

“Heh... In the end, I’m just a coward who used cheats to create situations where I could always win and only fought when I knew it was safe. I end up a nervous wreck the moment I’m faced with a battle I’m not sure I can win.”

Yuuto looked down at his trembling palm and spat the words out bitterly. He understood better than anyone that with the army’s most senior commander in this state, even a typically winnable battle couldn’t be won. His mind understood that, but his body wouldn’t stop trembling, and his heart wouldn’t stop worrying.

“Dammit, if I have the time to be cowering here, I should be out there rallying the troops...”

“Big Brother...” Felicia’s words of concern pulled Yuuto out of his spiral of self-loathing.

“Oh, sorry. You don’t need to hear all this.”

Yuuto let out a weak laugh. He hadn’t meant to lay his thoughts out in the open like this. He didn’t want her to see him so weak. However, by the time he’d realized what he was doing, he had given voice to all of the emotions that had been swirling inside him. It wasn’t as though telling her would change anything, but he couldn’t help but lean on her in this moment of weakness. He wanted her to share his anxiety and help him shoulder the burden. If he kept carrying it alone, he felt he’d be crushed by it.

“No need to apologize. If anything, it makes me happy to hear such things from you.”

“Huh? Happy?”

Given that Yuuto had been worried that he’d disappointed her with his rambling confession, he blinked when he heard her unexpected answer.

“Yes. I’m glad that you’re finally airing those thoughts to me, too. I’d been jealous of Big Sister Mitsuki and Lady Linnea until now because of it,” Felicia said and puffed out her cheeks in a teasing pout.

There had always been a part of Yuuto that had been a bit more reserved with Felicia than with Mitsuki or Linnea. Felicia had, in the past, viewed him as the servant of Angrboða—the Gleipsieg—sincerely revering him as a divine figure. While that view of him had faded as it had been replaced with romantic affection, and he had let down his guard somewhat by allowing her to see him demotivated or sad, he had still felt a strong reluctance to let her see him afraid or weak. It seemed she had picked up on that reluctance, as well as the fact that he treated her a bit differently than his other wives, and had hoped he would be more open with her.

“Please don’t underestimate me. I won’t be disappointed by something as trivial as this.”

“Trivial, you say?” Yuuto said with a forced smile. He had been regretting the embarrassing amount of insecurity he had been showing through his statements, but it seemed that none of it bothered Felicia in the slightest.

“Yes, trivial. While we may not have conducted the ceremony yet, I consider myself one of your wives, Big Brother. It is a wife’s role to support her husband when he’s worried, depressed, or struggling, is it not?” Felicia said with a gentle smile.

“Yeah... You’re right. Sorry,” Yuuto said apologetically, as he realized that he’d let his old impressions of Felicia color his interactions with her. Back when they had been in the Wolf Clan, Felicia, while seemingly outgoing and friendly, had a certain fragility as she shouldered a great deal of internalized guilt and remorse. But lately, she had grown into a stronger, more confident woman with more emotional flexibility. Given how much she had changed for the better, it was understandable that she’d be dissatisfied at the fact that Yuuto still doubted her ability to cope with his weakness.

“But it does bring back memories... Hehe.”

Yuuto blinked in confusion as Felicia gazed off into the distance, chuckling as she seemed to be thinking about the past. He had no idea what she was talking about.

“About what? I have too many memories with you. I mean, we’ve been together all this time,” Yuuto decided to simply ask. Given how much weakness he had shown, there was no point in putting on another act.

“That’s true. So much has happened that I probably do need to be more specific. I’m talking about your first battle, the Siege of Iárnviðr.”

“Oh, right. That.”

It wasn’t a pleasant memory for Yuuto. It was the battle that had turned him from a mere boy to a patriarch. A battle that had resulted in him losing his sworn father, Fárbauti, and his big brother, Loptr. At the same time, it had been the catalyst that would eventually make him into the man he was now.

“You had been trembling about the prospect of your first battle, Big Brother.”

“You really do remember things I’d rather forget,” Yuuto said with a slight grimace. Even if he was willing to accept that it was okay for him to show her his more vulnerable side, he still didn’t want a woman he loved to see him in that state, never mind have her clearly remember it.

“I remember every moment I’ve spent with you, Big Brother.”

“Uh-huh...”

“Do you remember, Big Brother? What I told you at the time?”

“Hm? ...Ah, yeah, I do remember.”

Yuuto searched his memories and soon came upon a particular phrase—words that were well suited for the current situation.

“A general may show weakness on occasion. They need not always show courage. Something like that, right?”

“What...? No, what I said was...”

Felicia looked confused, prompting Yuuto to burst out in laughter.

“Hah! I know exactly what you said. I’m just messing with you. Those were words attributed to a great hero that I once read. Their meaning is about the same as what you said though, I suppose. If I’m remembering it right, you said, ‘A great general must be both cautious and prudent. In fact, a small measure of cowardice is perfectly appropriate. It serves as proof of your potential as a commander.’ Was that it?”

“Y-Yes, exactly! You know, Big Brother, you can be quite mean at times!” Felicia said with a pout. Of course, what he’d said wasn’t exactly right, but he remembered clearly how she had helped encourage him when he was afraid before his first battle. At the time, he had dismissed her words as misplaced confidence in his abilities, but he remembered his own surprise when later, he found that Cao Cao of Wei, one of the heroes of the Three Kingdoms Period, had said something similar in his own writings.

“Well, yeah, I guess you’re right. A commander might as well be a bit cowardly sometimes.” Yuuto felt his heart lighten as soon as he uttered the words. He had learned quite a lot in his four and a half years in Yggdrasil. Too much, perhaps. He had forgotten about that saying up until this very moment.

“Precisely. It’s a lot better for a commander to be a careful and cautious person, rather than someone who acts recklessly and throws caution to the wind to gain a short-term advantage,” Felicia responded in reassurance.

With an army numbering over fifty thousand, the Steel Clan had a large number of commanders and generals in its ranks. The ones Yuuto found the most difficult to employ weren’t the cautious or cowardly ones. Instead, the ones who caused him the most headaches were the ones who either believed themselves to be great heroes or wanted to become heroes and repeatedly tried to employ reckless and dangerous tactics in a quest for glory. It was an easy flaw to see in others, but Yuuto had completely lost sight of it when it came to himself. He had been so caught up in his sense of responsibility as a ruler, his image of what a ruler should be, that he had narrowed his own perspective. That was part of what made ruling such a difficult responsibility.

“Thanks, Felicia. I feel like I have my feet under me again.”

He was still anxious. He was still scared. But now that he had stopped pretending to be something he wasn’t, his mind felt more at ease.

“Well, I was never worried about that in the slightest. You had been praising my brother and Nobunaga earlier, but if you ask me, I think that your decisions get better in tougher situations. As far as I’m concerned, you have everything needed in a general.”

“You think so...?”

The words didn’t quite click with him, and Yuuto responded with a touch of skepticism.

“Yes. For example, the whole thing you mentioned earlier about only fighting battles you can win. What’s wrong with putting in the effort to make sure you can secure a win? If anything, that’s the very definition of a great general, is it not?”

“W-Well, sure...” Yuuto responded, still not entirely sold on Felicia’s praise of him.

“Of course, you can lead our armies in a way that avoids danger as much as reasonably possible, but even that doesn’t prevent dangerous situations from cropping up, does it?”

“I suppose you’re right, yeah.”

No matter how much planning he had put in before a battle, no matter how thoroughly he removed any possibility of defeat on paper, the actual battles were often filled with unexpected and unknowable variables. That had led to threats to his very person more than once. When he hadn’t realized that Hveðrungr and Steinþórr had entered into an alliance and he had been suddenly flanked, he could very easily have lost, while in the battle against the Anti-Steel Clan Alliance, the battle had been a constant back and forth where the possibility of defeat constantly kept flashing in his mind.

“But, did you ever lose heart and cower in those moments of danger? If anything, you fought bravely,” Felicia stated proudly.

“I guess?”

During those times of danger, Yuuto had been so caught up in turning back the tide of battle that he didn’t really remember how he had felt in the moment, but that spoke to the fact that his attention had been solely focused on the battle itself. Perhaps he was braver than he thought. He felt his confidence revive within him. Felicia’s words had been the impetus, but words alone weren’t enough to touch the heart. The words had resonated with him because he had traveled the hard roads and built up the necessary experience.

“I can only be myself, huh? I guess you’re right. No use wishing for something I don’t have.”

Yuuto was, in fact, a man who was too compassionate to abandon the values he had grown up with in modern Japan. There was no denying that fact. But those values were also what had allowed Yuuto to see things that others could not. The very feats he had accomplished in Yggdrasil were testament to that fact.

His doubt was gone. Yuuto shouted at the top of his lungs. To rally himself; to convince himself.

“All right! Let’s do this, Felicia! Third time’s the charm. I’ll show Nobunaga a thing or two!”

“So, the morning has come,” Nobunaga murmured to himself, watching as the eastern sky began to lighten. He hadn’t been able to sleep the night before. Nobunaga knew that the coming battle would decide who ruled this continent.

“I’m over sixty years old, and I’m acting like a child before a festival.”

He chuckled self-deprecatingly to himself, but there was no denying his own excitement. It had been fifty years since he had decided that, having been born a man, he would bring all lands beneath the heavens under his control. The fervent wish that he had spent his entire life chasing was almost in reach. Only a dead man would have been unmoved by that prospect.

“Ran, how are we positioned?” Nobunaga asked without turning around, his gaze fixed on his quarry, the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr.

“Twenty thousand have been assigned to the east, west, and north. All they await are your orders, My Great Lord.”

“I see,” Nobunaga replied and nodded.

Nobunaga’s guiding principle was rapid decisions, rapid execution, and rapid victory. He had no intention of letting the war go on any longer than was necessary. He had made certain to surround Glaðsheimr with his forces—he was going to end it here. He wanted to foreclose the possibility of Yuuto and the Steel Clan Army escaping eastward into the Silk Clan territories at all costs.

“Then let us begin. Vassar!”

“Yes, yes, you called?”

A rather unexceptional and unmotivated-looking middle-aged man with drooping eyelids stepped out when summoned. Vassar was a nickname Nobunaga had given him because his full name had been hard for Nobunaga to pronounce. The man’s full name was Vassarfall. His appearance had none of the energy or demeanor expected of a great general, but despite that surface observation, he was in fact one of the Five Flame Clan Division Commanders, standing alongside Ran, Shiba, Kuuga, and Old Man Salk.

“As always, the vanguard is yours. Understood?”

“Of course. So it is finally my turn...”

Vassarfall smiled as though he had been waiting eagerly for the news. The battles between the Flame Clan and the Steel Clan to this point had mostly been skirmishes around sieges, and the only major field battle had been the first Battle of Glaðsheimr. He had been granted few opportunities to make use of his strengths, and it seemed he was champing at the bit for a chance to fight.

“Indeed it is. Given the circumstances, it’s only logical that I employ your skills.”

“Well, true. But I’m not going to work for free. If I can get you Suoh Yuuto’s head, can I have the item I’ve been asking for all these years?”

While his tone was technically formal and respectful, his attitude toward Nobunaga was casual and relaxed. Ran, who was standing next to Nobunaga, twitched a brow but remained silent. He was perfectly aware that it was no use chastising Vassarfall. Nobunaga chuckled softly and shook his head in an exaggerated manner.

“The battle hasn’t started yet, and already you’re asking for your reward?”

“I’ll be much more motivated if I know I’ll get the thing I want.”

“A fine point. Very well. If you can take Suoh Yuuto’s head, I’ll reward you with the Glass Goblet crafted by the great artisan Ingrid.”

“You will? Truly?!”

“The word of a Nobunaga is absolute.”

“Thank you so much! I’m totally pumped now!”

“You really are a glib fellow.”

Nobunaga curled his lips into a faintly exasperated but amused smile. This man was so accomplished as a general that within the Flame Clan, he was known as Vassarfall, Master of Advance and Retreat, but he was also infamous as an eccentric who was obsessed with collecting curios of various sorts. He would part with however much silver was necessary for him to acquire items he coveted. He was so irresponsible in his spending that within Nobunaga’s inner circle, he was often derided as a man who could read the flow of combat on a battlefield practically perfectly but had no idea when to stop when it came to his hobbies. The anecdote where he turned down the Wind Clan territories and asked Nobunaga for the Glass Goblet was well known among members of the Flame Clan.

“Heed this advice. If you allow your mind to fill up with thoughts of the Glass Goblet, you might very well trip over something you miss at your feet,” Nobunaga stated, before returning his focus to the more pressing topic. “A messenger arrived earlier from Bilskírnir. The Second and Fifth Divisions advancing on the west have been destroyed, and it seems Shiba has been slain by the Steel Clan’s Mánagarmr.”

“Wha?! Shiba’s dead?!”

Vassarfall, whose face had been so animated at the prospect of winning a prize he had sought for so long, suddenly lost its cheer and his expression tensed. He and Shiba were close in age, and they had fought countless battles at one another’s side as division commanders. He, perhaps better than anyone else, knew Shiba’s strength, which was why news of his death struck him all the harder.

“Yes. I had briefly thought it was a false report to sow confusion in our ranks, but it appears to be true.”

“Hrm, that’s pretty hard to believe, though. I mean, he wasn’t the most pleasant man to hang around with, but he was an exceptionally powerful warrior.”

“Indeed. His loss comes as a great blow. I had intended for him to teach his fighting arts to the next generation in the world I’m about to make.”

“Oh, man... That may not have been the most ideal choice, however. He’s the sort of teacher that’ll quickly burn out his students. Of course, the ones that could keep up with him would become monsters, but that’d leave maybe one or two students at most.”

“Hrmph, I have no interest in the weak and the ordinary.”

“Of course. I’d almost forgotten. But, wait, if the Fifth Division’s gone, what happened to Kuuga? I mean, he’s the sort of man who’d pop back up even if you were sure you’d lopped off his head.”

“He betrayed me.”

“Wha?!” Vassarfall said with complete befuddlement. He was ordinarily a man who was hard to read with his languid air and discursive rambles, but it seemed the news had, again, caught him by surprise.

“According to the reports, the defeat of our western forces was due to Kuuga’s betrayal.”

“I see now...”

Vassarfall’s face puckered sourly before he let out a soft snort of derision. The news had initially shocked him, but it seemed he’d made a connection in his mind.

“What is it? Had you noticed something?”

“Yes, somewhat. He’s the sort who dwells on things, and he was carrying around a lot of unvented resentment.”

“Indeed. I had thought he was a tenacious man, but it seems he wasn’t fit to walk my path of conquest. Worthless in the end,” Nobunaga said without amusement. He was used to being betrayed by his subordinates. As far as he was concerned, they were simply men who couldn’t see the big picture, who couldn’t set aside the possibility of great rewards and feats by following him. Instead, they would get caught up in trivial matters that were of no import. He had no interest in such rabble. “I suppose it’s worth praising our opponent. No doubt the Steel Clan had worked hard to get him to defect. They saw the chink in our armor and took great advantage of it. The man we face isn’t to be underestimated.”

“Certainly. It’s quite the shock to learn that both the Second and Fifth Divisions have been destroyed though.”

“Indeed. The young lad appears to have some rather talented individuals serving under him. Sigrún, who defeated Shiba, as well as the masked man who brought Homura to tears.”

“Quite so. They’re a lot stronger than any of our previous enemies.” Vassarfall’s words as he nodded in agreement were filled with conviction. Vassarfall had engaged Steel Clan forces on the battlefield, and even during the recent pursuit, he had suffered a fair number of losses himself. He knew the Steel Clan’s strength from personal experience.

“We’ve cornered them here, but it’s precisely because they’re cornered that they’re going to fight back with tooth and claw. The lad is sure to have something we’re not expecting tucked neatly up his sleeve. Be cautious as you approach.”

“Heh, who do you think you’re talking to?” Vassarfall responded with a predatory grin at Nobunaga’s warning. His face had taken on the confidence of a man who had waded into countless dangerous battles and won victories in spite of the odds. That was, of course, to be expected. Each of the five Division commanders had their strengths: Ran was a balanced commander who combined combat finesse with intelligence; Shiba had been an offensive commander who specialized in heavy offense; Kuuga had been known for his steady, cautious ability to get things done; and Old Man Salk was regarded for the skills he had honed through his decades of experience. Given his skill set, Vassarfall was the man best suited to lead the vanguard.

While leading the vanguard in battle was considered one of the greatest honors for a warrior, it was also one of the most dangerous roles on the battlefield, rivaled only by the rear guard during a retreat. The vanguard always engaged first in any battle, meaning the enemy was still in their proper formations, were able to properly use their ranged weaponry, and were prepared for their opponent’s approach. The commander of the vanguard had to charge into the enemy at the peak of their readiness. It truly was a dangerous and terrifying duty.

Vassarfall had been assigned to serve in his armies’ vanguards by Nobunaga in over twenty battles now, but despite the extreme danger of that role, he had survived every time. In fact, since he had joined Nobunaga as one of his subordinates, he had never once even been wounded in battle. His forces had encountered three ambushes by Hveðrungr’s rear guard, but each time he had avoided the gunshots at the last moment and emerged unscathed. It should have been impossible, but it was all due to Vassarfall’s extraordinary ability to detect danger, his ability to make decisions quickly, and his flexibility in response.

“Leave it to me. I shall go and lay bare all of the enemy’s plans for you to see,” Vassarfall stated proudly.

Nobunaga nodded, trusting Vassarfall to make good on his word. Vassarfall was perfectly suited to this task, in which the Flame Clan Army was walking into a completely unknown situation.

“Oh my! What a terrible thing! Is this all that is left of the beautiful Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr?! How unbelievable! Gods, how could you do such a cruel thing...?!”

The moment he stepped foot in Glaðsheimr, Vassarfall gazed up at the heavens and lamented melodramatically. It looked at a glance like a piece of excessive emotive theater, but Vassarfall meant every word. Vassarfall considered himself a follower of beauty and art rather than a warrior or a general. He had been born and raised in a village near Glaðsheimr, and he had made the trip to the Holy Capital countless times in his youth, always basking in the city’s beauty.

When Nobunaga had taken power in the Flame Clan, all of the innovations and new items Nobunaga had produced made the Holy Capital feel old and behind the times, and Vassarfall had stopped visiting as a result, but the capital had still been a memorable place where Vassarfall had spent his adolescence. Perhaps the bustling liveliness of the city and the grandeur of the palace and the Hliðskjálf had been exaggerated in his memory, but he still remembered it as a city filled with beauty in all its forms. To Vassarfall, the loss of that beauty was a loss for all humanity.

“People are indeed sinful creatures. Certainly, the people of Glaðsheimr had grown arrogant and had fallen from grace. But still! The culture they created is innocent! Surely the gods understand this, so why would they allow such... Oh!” Vassarfall paused mid-sentence as though he had been struck by a divine insight and began to tremble.

“I see! All things eventually pass! This fragility, too, is beauty! Wonderful! Brilliant! My emotions pour forth from my heart and out of my eyes! All of you! I have gained enlightenment! True beauty comes in fragility!” Vassarfall passionately described his discovery as tears streamed from his eyes, however...

“Right... I see...”

“Ah, you found something. Glad to hear it, sir.”

“Shouldn’t we get going?”

His subordinates all reacted without much interest. There wasn’t a single soldier among them who was shocked by Vassarfall’s behavior. They clearly didn’t care about what he was saying in the slightest. It was far from an appropriate attitude to take with one’s superior, but this was what passed for an ordinary interaction in the Third Division of the Flame Clan Army.

“Tch. All this time with me, and you savages still can’t grasp the value of beauty. I weep for my misfortune,” Vassarfall said with a look of frustration. That didn’t mean he wanted them to flatter him or try to humor him. That, too, was far from what Vassarfall would have liked. There was no point in them doing anything like that unless they truly understood his words, repented their past ignorance, and fully shared in his emotional revelation. He found any superficial agreement or flattery to be artless and lacking in elegance—a hollow façade concealing baser motives such as self-preservation and advancement. Vassarfall would much rather hear blunt honesty from his subordinates than taint his ears with such ugly words. That was all to say that, all in all, Vassarfall was a bothersome individual who would grow upset the moment a subordinate tried to tactfully feign polite agreement like a civilized human being. He was an eccentric’s eccentric. However...

“Come now, sir, let’s go!”

“Please come back from your dreamland for now.”

“Yes, please do. Our lives depend on it.”

“Grr... All of you, you understand that I am the great Vassarfall, the fourth-ranking member of the Flame Clan, yes?! Surely you can stand to treat me with more respect!”

“Oh, c’mon, we respect you plenty.”

“Yeah. I doubt there are children who admire their old man as much as we do.”

“Quite so.”

“Truly?! It doesn’t appear that way to me!”

While he would mutter complaints with a pout, he made no effort to angrily chastise his disrespectful subordinates. The fact of the matter was, Vassarfall was a forgiving individual who would let most slights pass so long as the speaker was being honest, and while it took some getting used to, those under his command who had known him for a while actually had a pretty high opinion of him. The fact that they would say he was a good commander with the proviso that he was still weird was just a sign of their affection for their commander.

“So, how’s it look, sir? Anything odd here?”

“Hrm... If anything, everything seems to be odd. The city’s abandoned, the buildings have all collapsed. It’s harder to find things that aren’t odd.”

Vassarfall looked around, letting out a sigh of exasperation before answering his subordinate’s question and scratched at his cheek.

“Well, true, but surely you can find something unusual, right, old man?” a subordinate said casually, his complete trust in Vassarfall’s observation skills reflected in his voice.

Vassarfall came from a historical family lineage of spies that had served the Holy Ásgarðr Empire for over two hundred years. Over those two hundred years—over the course of several generations—the family had developed and refined countless techniques and observation skills that were some of the most remarkable in Yggdrasil. Part of the reason that the empire, despite losing much of its military strength early in its history, had survived for two centuries was because of the sheer information gathering abilities of Vassarfall’s family. That was why Vassarfall, despite not being an Einherjar and lacking any supernatural detection abilities like Homura, was so adept at detecting traps and the presence of people regardless of his environment.

Indeed, the family considered Vassarfall to be their greatest creation. Not simply the greatest creation of his generation, but of their entire two-hundred-year history. There had, of course, been several Einherjar born in the family over the generations; there had been at least ten of them over the last two centuries. Despite that, Vassarfall, a normal human being without a rune, was considered to be their greatest creation.

How had Vassarfall gained that level of skill? He himself would say it was because he had no talent whatsoever, and in fact, as a child, Vassarfall had nothing that particularly distinguished him from his peers. In whatever pursuit he tried, it was easier to find his name by counting from the bottom of any given list—he was a thoroughly sorry excuse for a student. Despite his lack of talent, however, he had persevered. He had taken the time to carefully and methodically learn each technique and skill. He continued to train and refine his skills, even as his peers mocked him for his slow progress and his insistence on mastering something fully before moving forward. He never gave up even when his teachers would ask him with exasperation why he didn’t understand such a simple lesson. He continued to ask questions, thought for himself, developed theories in his own mind, and learned through trial and error.

He had grown at a much slower pace than the rest of his generation, but he never stopped learning and never stopped growing. After years and years of effort, his continued, unending growth meant he had overtaken those who had mocked him just years earlier. It was only when he finally understood he had nothing more to learn in his village that he had set out on a wandering journey where he, through sheer chance, ran into Nobunaga. He saw beauty in Nobunaga’s creation and Nobunaga’s way of living, and Vassarfall had been completely smitten by the pursuit of beauty and elegance. That was how he had arrived in his current position.

“Hmm, it doesn’t seem like there’s much in the way of traps for the moment. Based on the ripples in the air, there’s a fair number of people in that direction. I feel someone is watching us. I can’t say exactly where it’s coming from, but it’s not a pleasant feeling,” Vassarfall stated, skillfully listing off the things he had noticed so far.

“Wow...”

His subordinates all let out a gasp of admiration at once. It was understandable. Even after Vassarfall’s explanation, they couldn’t feel what it was he felt. Vassarfall let out a confident little snort.

“I see you’re making that same strange face you always do when you get into your groove.”

“Hey, don’t be making too much fun of it. Sure, it does look really weird, but that’s what’s kept us alive all this time.”

“I mean, you’re right, but we’re about to fight, yet there’s not a trace of concern in his expression. It kind of sucks the tension out of the air. I wish he’d do something about that odd look of his.”

The men made comments at Vassarfall’s expense—though they meant no harm.

“Ugh... Surely there are other things you ought to notice,” Vassarfall responded and gritted his teeth in frustration as his subordinates focused solely on the surface details that they could see. Who cared about his strange facial expressions? It was such a trivial thing to worry about. True, it did look like he was just staring open-mouthed like a gaping idiot. But to Vassarfall, this was the final form of all of the techniques that his family had developed over generations. It was his belief that people saw not with their eyes, but with their minds.

This had nothing to do with the cliché about a mind’s eye providing supernatural insights or the like, but rather, Vassarfall believed that it was only by “closing” the mind’s eye that one could truly sense the world around them. People filter the input from their senses through their preconceptions. When told there were ghosts, people would see faces in tree bark or silhouettes in waving grass. Much to the same effect, if they were told there was a trap at a particular place, they would start seeing traps even if they didn’t exist. Conversely, if they were convinced there were no traps, they’d miss them even if they were obvious to the naked eye.

It was for these reasons that Vassarfall cleared his mind of all thoughts. By emptying his mind of any preconceived notions or considerations, he was able to perceive the world as it truly was without filtering it through his own mental schema. It was, in fact, a rather impressive feat, but...

“It’s okay, Father. I’m listening to what you’re saying.”

About the only one among his subordinates who understood the logic even in the slightest was his Second.

“Sniff... Fluss, you’re a good man.”

“Yes, I completely agree,” the man named Fluss said with a dry laugh. Among Vassarfall’s group’s leadership, there were quite a few outspoken and blunt individuals. Phrased positively, they had nothing to hide, and they were all easy people to read, but because of those previously mentioned qualities, they weren’t exactly the most harmonious group to lead. Vassarfall, their sworn father, was, above all, a man who valued living life on his own terms and tended to reside in a world of his own making. The man who somehow kept all of these individuals together as a cohesive unit was Fluss, his Second. There was no doubt that without him, Vassarfall’s entire group would have disintegrated long before this point. Fluss often had to tell himself he was a good man in order to deal with the stress of herding what was essentially a giant group of cats.

“For the moment, I suppose it’s safe to assume, given you’re picking up on a lot of people in that direction, that it likely means their main body is holed up in Valaskjálf Palace, correct?”

“That would be astute, yes.”

“In that case, if there are no traps around, then we may as well keep moving forward.”

“Right. Hm?”

Just as he nodded in agreement at Fluss’s words, Vassarfall suddenly furrowed his brow.

“What is it?”

“Seems like the enemy’s started moving. They’ve got soldiers hiding around here. They’re close.”

“I still don’t know how you do it. Something about the ground whispering to you, right?”

“Yeah. If it’s just a few dozen, I can’t detect them, but at several hundred, it’s impossible to miss the vibrations from their movements that come through the ground.”

“No, I’m pretty sure most people would miss it if the enemy was earnestly trying to stay quiet. You’re about the only person who can reliably detect it.”

“With enough training, anyone can do it. Even a failure like me managed to figure out how to do it.”

“Ordinarily, just training isn’t enough.”

“Well, all that means is that the volume and quality of the training are severely lacking. Anyone can learn these skills if they cut back on sleep, work so hard at it that they piss blood, and in the worst case, live blindfolded for five years.”

It was reasonably well-established that the remaining four senses of a blind person were much sharper than that of a sighted person. Many blind people learned to navigate by rapping a stick against the ground and listening to how the sounds reflect to map out their position. What was especially impressive was that those people weren’t Einherjar or particularly gifted in any other way. They were simply normal people besides the fact that they couldn’t see. If they could do it, then with enough training, anyone should be able to do the same thing. Now, whether or not that was actually true was something only the gods knew, but Vassarfall, at least, was convinced of it. After all, he, who had no amount of talent to speak of, had learned how to do it.

“...I really do sympathize with the enemy needing to deal with a freak like you.”

“That’s rather mean, you know!” Vassarfall shouted indignantly when his Second, the man he trusted without reservation, couldn’t help but describe him as a freak. Listening to their exchange, the other subordinates burst out in laughter. There wasn’t a trace of tension among them, even as they approached the battlefield, but that was a sign of their trust in Vassarfall and their familiarity with battle. Despite their seemingly clownish behavior, the Third Division of the Flame Clan Army was a unit that had little in the way of openings or weaknesses.

“So, the enemy’s vanguard is led by Vassarfall the Spearhead, it seems? About what I expected,” Yuuto observed coolly as he listened to Kristina give her report.

Although the Flame Clan Army had finally started their advance, his heart was strangely calm. All the anxiety and the tension from before the battle felt like a distant memory. Despite still being rather young, Yuuto had plentiful experience leading men in battle. Over the years, he had drilled himself to stay humble and remain calm when commanding. The conditioning from all the years of leading his armies had developed into a Pavlovian response within him, and when his mind detected that a battle was about to start, he automatically switched over to battle mode. Felicia looked over at him with a glance that seemed to say, “See, what did I tell you?”

“Because he’s never been wounded despite continually commanding his army’s vanguard, he’s come to be known as the Fafnir, the unkillable imp.”

Felicia’s description of their opponent sent a shocked murmur through the assembled commanders. It was difficult for them to believe that anyone commanding the vanguard from the front lines rather than simply leading from the safety of the rear had never suffered a single wound in battle. They could only think of a single example of anyone ever managing that feat.

“...Surely he’s not some monster on the level of Steinþórr, right?” Haugspori, one of the Horn Clan’s Brísingamen, voiced what everyone in the room was wondering. As a core member of the Horn Clan Army, he had faced Steinþórr on the battlefield several times, and he knew from personal experience just how frightening an opponent he had been. In fact, those experiences were a form of trauma for him, and he couldn’t help but worry there was another Steinþórr out there, ready to rampage across the battlefield.

“That can’t be it. From the information Kristina gathered beforehand, he’s got an extremely good reputation as a general, but his personal skill in battle isn’t much to write home about. Hence he’s known as Fafnir, the imp, rather than something more grandiose. I’m told he doesn’t even have a rune.”

Yuuto quickly shot down that speculation, but the revelation that Vassarfall wasn’t an Einherjar sent another murmur through the assembled commanders. The fact that he had no rune made his ability to come out unscathed despite leading the vanguard all the more difficult to comprehend.

“I see... Still, not only do we have to cope with Nobunaga, but they have other monsters like Shiba, Kuuga, and Homura. Most clans have, at most, a single such person, but the Flame Clan seems to be stacked with them,” Haugspori replied.

“Yeah. It’s a bit tiresome to see them send these ridiculous opponents after us one after the other. That being said, it’s not as though we don’t have comparable people in our own ranks. Speaking of which... Fagrahvél!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Fagrahvél stepped forward when her name was called. She was the patriarch of the Sword Clan who had once commanded the Anti-Steel Clan Alliance, and she possessed an extraordinarily potent rune that was nicknamed the Rune of Kings.

“You’re up. Activate your Gjallarhorn.”

“A-Already, Your Majesty?”

It appeared she had expected to be given some sort of task after being addressed, but this order seemed to have caught her off guard, and she blinked in her eyes in surprise.

“...Father, my rune’s ability is certainly powerful, but I’m not capable of using it in rapid succession. The battle hasn’t started yet. I humbly suggest it may be best to wait to see how the battle develops.”

Fagrahvél hesitantly argued against Yuuto’s order. Her power was extremely draining, to the point that after the Battle of Vígríðr, she had been so exhausted that she couldn’t even walk for several days afterward. Once activated, she wouldn’t be able to use it for at least another three days. It was a powerful rune, but the fact that it could only be used once every three days made the timing of using it difficult.

“Very well. When it comes to Gjallarhorn, you know how to use it better than anyone. Continue. I want your honest opinion.”

The fate of the Steel Clan rested on this battle. Yuuto was aware that he wasn’t perfect. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. He had asked his subordinates to give him their honest opinions, rather than hold back from a sense of duty or respect for his rank. He needed their frank assessments of his tactics in order to succeed here.

“Of course, Your Majesty. In my experience to date, my rune is best employed in a short, decisive battle. I believe it is most effective when you wish to break a stalemate or prevent your forces from collapsing when on the defensive. The battle has just started. We don’t know how the enemy will fight, and we have no idea of what awaits us as the battle unfolds. Making use of it now will mean we won’t have it if it’s needed later.”

“I see, you have a point there. But isn’t now the time to use it?”

“Pardon?”

Fagrahvél blinked at Yuuto’s question. She didn’t quite grasp what he meant.

“You just said it. That it was best to prevent the army from collapsing when on the defensive. Isn’t now exactly that moment?”

“Y-Yes, I did say that... However, using it at the very beginning of a battle is still...”

Fagrahvél furrowed her brow, still skeptical about the merits of Yuuto’s proposal. Gjallarhorn was her greatest asset. She was probably reluctant to use it as an opening move. However, though she considered it her only trump card, to Yuuto it was but one of the aces he had up his sleeve. Yuuto always made certain to have multiple cards that he could play at any one time, and now was the right time to play this particular card.

“It may be the start of the battle, but I think now is the emergency that requires your rune. If we show even the slightest signs of weakness in the opening battle, we have no chance of victory. We need to win decisively.”

“Ah?! Decisively, you say?!”

Fagrahvél swallowed audibly at Yuuto’s statement. The opponent they faced was a famously skilled general, one who was such a good tactician that he had never been wounded in battle. Claiming a decisive victory against such an opponent felt like reaching for and trying to grasp the clouds.

“Yes. Most of the soldiers haven’t recovered from the shock of our recent losses. We’ve lost two battles in a row. If the enemy gains any sort of advantage, our lines may very well collapse.”

“...That is true. I, too, was somewhat concerned about that.”

Fagrahvél nodded with a troubled expression. She herself was a skilled general, one who had previously been chosen to lead the Anti-Steel Clan Alliance. She had instinctively felt that the morale of the current Steel Clan Army was teetering on the brink of disaster.

“If we’re to overcome those losses, then simply staying on the defensive and forcing the enemy to retreat won’t be good enough. We need to crush the opposition and show our people that the enemy can be beaten,” Yuuto explained.

“Hrm, I see...” Fagrahvél tilted her head thoughtfully in response. She wasn’t yet fully convinced of his argument, but it seemed she saw the logic behind his proposal. “Isn’t that too much of a gamble though? At the very least, we should wait to see how the enemy...”

“Fagrahvél, I don’t gamble in battle,” Yuuto replied confidently.

At first, it seemed Fagrahvél wasn’t certain what Yuuto was trying to say, but once his meaning dawned upon her, she asked him with a tremor in her voice. “Pardon? Y-You don’t mean to say that you’re certain you can win?!”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Okay, I won’t say it’s a foregone conclusion, but we can win this—so long as you lend me your strength,” Yuuto answered casually.

“Th-The enemy is a general with multiple nicknames, isn’t he...?” Fagrahvél asked, her body trembling. She knew from her experiences over the past year that Yuuto wasn’t someone who would lie about those kinds of things. Even so, she still needed to ask.

“Well, I won’t say we can win anywhere at any time. But here, now, and for the initial battle? I’m almost certain that we will,” Yuuto declared coolly. He wasn’t saying it out of a need to convince himself it was true, nor was he saying it to put up a strong front to his commander; his tone was casual, as though he were telling them that the sky was blue. Yes, there was no way he would lose. As for why...

“This is my backyard, after all,” Yuuto quipped.

“Hm, seems the enemy’s planning a pincer to take out our flanks,” Vassarfall suddenly stopped in his tracks and said as though the topic were of no concern to him.

Currently, the Flame Clan Army’s Third Division under his command was advancing along the great road leading from the southern gate to Valaskjálf Palace. While the enemy shadowing them appeared to think they were well concealed by the buildings lining the street, they weren’t able to hide the sound of their breathing. Had it been like the rear guard during the recent retreat that had quieted their breathing and dispersed in small groups, he might not have heard them, but Vassarfall’s ears could easily pick up the sound of several hundred in a group moving through the city.

“An ambush, eh? Seems like the right call to make,” Fluss the Second said calmly as he assessed the enemy’s choice of tactics. It went without saying that ambushes only worked because the targets were unaware of their attackers. When the targets knew where the ambushers were, like in this instance, they presented no threat at all. It was simple for him to remain calm despite knowing there were enemy soldiers in the vicinity.

“One, two, three, four... I’d wager there are about six units. Each one numbers a few hundred. None of them are over five hundred.”

“...To be able to detect details to that level really is close to supernatural, boss. Not that it’s anything new,” Fluss replied and let out a dry laugh of exasperation.

“You use the fact that sound bounces off surfaces. It’s pretty easy to take advantage of when you get used to it.”

“The whole thing about sound bouncing around is what doesn’t make sense.”

“What? You know how there are echoes when you shout out at mountains? Your voice comes back from the mountain, right?”

“Huh? Isn’t that just the trickster god Loki playing tricks?” Fluss asked, clearly confused by Vassarfall’s question.

“Even gods aren’t that bored.”

It was Vassarfall’s turn to be exasperated. His worldly knowledge was so great to the point that he looked like the weird one. Even his Second, who was one of the smarter men under his command, could only comprehend so much. It was completely unfair.

“Well, anyway, I have to say I feel bad for our enemies. They’ve been chased back to this ruin, and I’m sure they were betting on this plan being the way to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. And the poor bastards have run into someone who so thoroughly ignores the natural way of things,” his Second, Fluss, replied.

“Everything I do follows the laws of nature,” Vassarfall returned with a sour frown. He had long since given up on having ordinary people understand the mechanics behind his exceptional skills. He’d resigned himself to the fact that the world wasn’t willing to listen to the truth.

“So, what do we do? Should we ambush the ambushers? Or should we play along and draw them out?”

Vassarfall looked over at his Second as he pondered his response. When it came to purely tactical knowledge, Fluss had a fair amount of promise. He’d likely studied the subject in great detail. Vassarfall would have no complaints if the guy would just go a step further and try to understand how the world worked or develop a better appreciation of true beauty.

“The former. We’ll split our forces into ten units and hit them all at once,” Vassarfall responded.

“Ten?! Isn’t that spreading ourselves a bit too thin?!” Fluss furrowed his brow skeptically. Numbers represented strength when it came to battle. Dividing one’s forces simply invited the enemy to destroy those divided forces with greater ease.

“Not a concern. Glaðsheimr is so densely packed with buildings that it’s hard to deploy a large army. The fighting will probably take place in narrow spaces like alleys. Leaving our forces concentrated would just mean that most would end up standing around twiddling their thumbs.”

“Right... I see...”

Fluss nodded in understanding. He knew full well that keeping one’s forces concentrated was a fairly elementary and logical tactical decision to take, but there was no point doing so if most of the soldiers would be left unable to engage the enemy. The correct concentration of a general’s forces meant that all of the available soldiers in a given unit were engaged in battle rather than sitting idle. In that sense, splitting up the division’s forces made plenty of sense.

“I’m told the Steel Clan Army totals about thirty thousand, but there’s only a few thousand deployed in this area. There’s not even ten thousand of them here. They’ve probably divided their forces into four groups to counter our encirclement of the city. The Great Lord has provided me with twenty thousand soldiers. It’d be a waste not to make use of our numerical superiority,” Vassarfall explained.

“Ah ha.”

“Even when split into ten units, that’s still two thousand men per unit. Each unit is far bigger than the enemy they’ll be facing. We then spread them out around the city and trap the enemy units in pincer attacks.”

“Understood. Then I’ll go ahead and give the orders.”

Fluss quickly began issuing orders to his subordinates based on the information provided by Vassarfall. In this regard, Fluss was attentive to details and extremely capable. It didn’t take him more than a few minutes to make the necessary preparations and return to Vassarfall’s side.

“Ready when you are, Old Man.”

“Good. The enemy’s position is as I’ve noted. Get out there and deal with them!”

“Yes, My Lord!” Vassarfall’s subordinates replied in unison, their expressions set in determination, lacking any of the playfulness they had shown earlier. They were all first-rate warriors—they knew when to relax and when to put the entirety of their focus on fighting. That was the principle that guided the Flame Clan’s Third Division.

“The enemy’s dispersed. Based on their movements, they’re completely aware of where all of our units are hiding!”

“All of them?!”

Yuuto blinked in surprise at Kristina’s report. A city, with its countless obstacles and buildings, was a perfect area to hide soldiers. He had expected the enemy to be on guard for ambushes, but it was rather surprising to learn they had worked out where his units were hiding.

“Do we have a mole? That seems pretty unlikely...”

About the only ones who knew where all of the Steel Clan forces were positioned at the moment were him and Kristina, who was watching the entire battlefield from the Hliðskjálf ruins with a pair of binoculars. As far as the officers were concerned, each was only aware of the position of their own units—they had no idea where the rest of the army was positioned. A spy wouldn’t explain why the enemy knew where all of the units near the Flame Clan Army’s Third Division forces were located.

“Guess that Homura girl that Hveðrungr mentioned is with the army. That, or Vassarfall’s got someone with similar abilities in his ranks. Eesh, so many cheat abilities...”

He didn’t really have any right to complain, given that his own twin runes conferred similar abilities. Of course, Yuuto’s words were simply banter, and he wasn’t actually complaining about the enemy’s ability to ferret out his hidden units. This was all still within expectations.

“Kris, tell me the enemy’s positions.”

“To the west: eighty-seven by forty-four, moving west. Eighty-six by forty-five moving to eighty-five, shifting westward. Eighty-eight by forty-five is also heading westward. To the east...”

Kristina quickly read out a series of numbers to him via her handheld radio. While it sounded like code, it wasn’t anything quite so complex. They had simply divided Glaðsheimr into a one hundred by one hundred grid, and Kristina was reporting the locations based on the coordinates on that grid. It was similar to how chess moves were recorded using grid coordinates.

“Good, then it’s our turn to move. Seven-seven, go from eighty-seven by forty-two to forty-one. Seven-eight, hold your position. Seven-nine...”

Yuuto used the information provided by Kristina to issue orders to his units by radio, giving them precise information in real-time. The fact that Yuuto was so adeptly maneuvering several dispersed units simultaneously was a massively overpowered cheat ability given the current era. And that wasn’t the only thing he had on his side. He had the advantage of knowing the terrain. Yuuto curled his lips into a malicious grin.

“Time for the Flame Clan Army to feel what it’s like to fight in an urban jungle.”

“Enemy sighted ahead! It’s just like the Old Man said!”

“Right. Let us pursue them. The path ahead of us is pretty narrow. You lot go around and hit them from the side!”

“Got it!”

The Flame Clan Army’s Third Division ran through the streets of Glaðsheimr, calling out to one another as they advanced. They made certain to coordinate their movements, approaching the enemy from the front and either side, robbing them of their escape routes. The Steel Clan troops were practically cornered rats at this point.

“What? They’re not going to run any further? Very well! Attack!”

“Raaaah!”

Battles broke out all over the southern part of Glaðsheimr.

“Push, push! Ah?!”

“Grr, they’re strong!”

“Dammit, there are Einherjar here?!”

The exclamations of surprise came from the Flame Clan Army’s soldiers. Expecting the hardest fighting to be in the southern quadrant of the city, the Steel Clan had assigned the elite Einherjar of the Sword Clan’s Maidens of the Waves to that area. Had they been fighting in a wide-open space, it would have been possible for the Flame Clan forces to overwhelm them with numbers, but all of the fighting was taking place in narrow alleys that limited the number of soldiers that could engage the Maidens at any one time.

With their superhuman fighting abilities, the Maidens dominated the battlefield. Just as importantly, they were currently fighting to the fullest of their potential thanks to the power of their patriarch’s rune, Gjallarhorn. Despite the fact that the Flame Clan soldiers fighting against them were professional and elite soldiers, the Maidens were far too much for a handful of ordinary human beings to handle.

“Ugh! Blast! Where are our reinforcements?!”

“Just what in the hell are the others doing?!”

The soldiers began to grumble as the reinforcements that were supposed to flank the enemy from the sides didn’t arrive. Just how long had they been waiting? Why weren’t they here?

As for what had happened to the Flame Clan soldiers who had been sent to flank the enemy...

“Tch, the rubble’s blocking this alley.”

“Dammit! This way, then!”

They had been forced to take further detours. As they wandered through the various alleys seeking a way forward, arrows rained down on them from above.

“Gah!”

“Ack!”

“Blast! They’re hitting us from above!”

They glared up at the Steel Clan archers that had suddenly appeared on the rooftops around them and roared out in rage. Even as they prepared to respond with their own arrows...

“They’re already gone!”

“Bastards ran away.”

The Steel Clan soldiers quickly abandoned the advantage of their high ground and vanished.

“After them! After them!”

The enraged Flame Clan soldiers gave chase, but quickly lost sight of their attackers in the maze-like alleys.

“How in the blazes did they get behind us?!”

“Why are we the ones getting hit on both sides?!”

As the Flame Clan forces chased the Steel Clan forces conducting hit-and-run attacks, they found themselves surrounded by units who had been positioned to encircle them according to Yuuto’s instructions.

“Dammit, you’re too late!”

Even when reinforcements finally arrived to relieve a Flame Clan unit, the Steel Clan soldiers had already retreated and vanished without a trace. The Flame Clan forces that gave chase quickly got lost in the warren of side paths, losing sight of the enemy and falling victim to ambushes and pincer movements. The process repeated itself across the southern quadrant of the city.

“Tch... At this rate, we’re just going to get slaughtered. We need to get back to Father Vassarfall and get new orders.”

“Yeah. Our role is to discover the enemy’s plans after all.”

“We’ve already accomplished that goal. Let’s get out of here.”

After four hours of fighting, the unit commanders finally understood the extent of the enemy’s preparations and ordered a retreat. However...

“Blast it. Where are we?!”

“Why isn’t Father here?!”

“Ah! He’s that far away?!”

Because they had been forced to chase after the Steel Clan’s various units along the back alleys of Glaðsheimr, they had completely lost track of their own position. Their sense of direction was practically shot, too. With several of the Third Division units isolated from the main body of the Flame Clan Third Division, what would come next was all too predictable...

“Get them!”

“The enemy’s isolated!”

“Surround them and destroy them!”

“Raaaah!”

The Steel Clan Army poured out of the ruins to attack them. They seemed to know every corner of the city intimately, easily navigating the maze of side streets and alleyways. They also appeared to know precisely where the Flame Clan soldiers were, closing off any escape routes with terrifying accuracy and attacking them mercilessly. Despite supposedly being outnumbered, the Steel Clan soldiers were the ones encircling and destroying the Flame Clan forces.

It made no sense. The Flame Clan soldiers didn’t know where they were. They didn’t know how to get back to their force’s main body. They were isolated from the other Division units. They had no way of knowing when the enemy would appear, and there was no sign of reinforcements. This combination of factors quickly wore down even the most hardened soldiers of the Flame Clan and pushed them into a state of panic.

“They’ve taken down the enemy squad commander.”

“The enemy is moving to eighty-two by thirty-three.”

“Seven-seven here, we’ve finished moving to seventy-three by thirty-nine. Requesting additional orders.”

Yuuto moved the small stones on the map of Glaðsheimr in front of him as reports filtered through from the radio receiver. The white stones represented his own units, while black stones represented the enemy’s. The map, however, was only there for him to confirm the positions of each unit, and didn’t provide enough information on its own to allow Yuuto to grasp the movement of each piece on the board. Instead, he memorized the board and simulated the next move in his mind, manipulating the pieces into the positions he desired. The sheer skill behind his calculations was enough to leave Hveðrungr and Bára slack-jawed in shock as they watched from beside him.

Both of them were among the most skilled tacticians in all of Yggdrasil. They were also extremely intelligent. They understood human psychology, and they had the necessary skills to draw their opponents into their traps. But even the two of them wouldn’t be able to do what Yuuto was doing.

Sure, they might be able to do it on a small scale, moving their own units to draw out the enemy and give precise directions to catch them in a pincer movement. What Yuuto was doing was totally different—he was commanding several dozen units with unerring precision. This was the power of one of Yuuto’s twin runes, Herfjötur, Fetter of the Host. Currently, Yuuto knew the position of every soldier on the battlefield, regardless of whether they were friend or foe.

Of course, this wasn’t entirely due to the power of his rune. He was only able to direct this elaborate dance because he had completely memorized the terrain of Glaðsheimr itself. Yuuto hadn’t been a king that had simply sat on his throne and waited for reports from below. He knew that he needed to see the city for himself to get an accurate grasp of its welfare. That was why he had often gone into the city in disguise with Kristina accompanying him to hide his presence using the power of her rune. He had extensively traveled every part of the city, focusing more on the backstreets and alleys rather than on the main thoroughfares. He did so because, in those places, there was far more information about the city and the problems that it shouldered than anywhere else.

Without that sort of personal experience, he wouldn’t have been able to so accurately recall every corner of his city. It was precisely because he had walked down every back alley that he was able to make use of them as a part of his arsenal. With that knowledge, he had then chosen to conduct insurgency-style guerrilla attacks on the invading army, miring them in urban combat—a style of warfare that, in the modern day, had nearly brought the US Army to its knees. It was a tactic that the perfect combination of his abilities, his knowledge of the city, and the location of Glaðsheimr made possible.

“Well, they got us. I thought we’d seen through their planned ambushes, but we’d only ended up getting dragged into a much nastier trap they had laid.”

Vassarfall pursed his lips bitterly as he listened to the report given by an officer who had, through sheer luck, managed to return alive from the warren of ambushes and traps that his forces had wandered into. It was pointless to know where the enemy was positioned if they didn’t know how to reach them. While Glaðsheimr appeared tidy and organized near its main arteries, it was another matter entirely when one moved away from the once-glittering main streets. The countless unplanned and random new constructions and renovations that had taken place around the various backstreets and alleys over the city’s two-hundred-year history had created a jumbled web of passages that the recent earthquake, and the rubble it left in its wake, had made all the much worse. The backstreets of Glaðsheimr were now effectively a labyrinth.

“Just how are they doing it, though?!”

Vassarfall understood that a ruler who cared intensely about his people might know the layout of the city itself. Grasping the location of his forces was also possible if the enemy had someone like himself or Homura among their ranks, or if they had an observer watching from a suitable vantage point. The question, however, was how he was getting that information to his soldiers.

Vassarfall had detected at least fifteen additional enemy units in the area, likely reinforcements that had come from other sectors of the city. They were all actively moving around the city. It was inconceivable that the enemy’s commander could give such precise orders to that many troops. In that case, had the enemy units been given their orders ahead of time? No, that was impossible; it would rob the units of the necessary tactical flexibility. It was clear to him that the enemy commander wasn’t just issuing broad orders, but giving precise instructions based on the movements of his own forces.

“Well, I give up,” Vassarfall said with a sigh, then held up both hands and shrugged. Continuing the battle was exactly what the enemy wanted. It would just waste the precious lives of his own soldiers. “At least we know what the enemy’s planning. We’re pulling back! Sound the retreat!”

Vassarfall gave the order without a moment’s hesitation, and his forces began their retreat. The enemy had the upper hand from the very first exchange, and he had achieved nothing of note. It had been a completely lopsided loss on his part. Had he been an average general, he would have dug in his heels and kept on fighting, trying to save face or at least salvage something out of this disaster. Vassarfall himself had the Glass Goblet crafted by the great artisan Ingrid on the line. The recognition that he had no choice but to retreat was agonizing. However, he had no intention of letting his personal feelings cloud his judgment. This sound decision-making was precisely why he was worthy of being known by the moniker of Vassarfall, Master of Advance and Retreat.

“Sieg Iárn! Sieg Iárn!”

Just as the sun reached its zenith, the cheers of the victorious Steel Clan forces rang out, chasing the retreating Flame Clan forces out of the city. The Steel Clan Army had achieved an overwhelming victory in this initial engagement, regaining its morale as it prepared to counterattack. But to Nobunaga, this initial engagement had simply been a means of seeing how his enemy planned to fight. The true battle had yet to begin.

To be continued...