ACT 4
Vassarfall was the first in the Flame Clan to notice the sudden change in the city. His forces were currently set up approximately a kilometer north of Glaðsheimr. Their placement to the north left Vassarfall’s forces in a position to reinforce either the west, where the Steel Clan might bring reinforcements from Bifröst or Álfheimr, or the east, where the enemy might try to escape into Jötunheimr. It was an important role that required initiative on the commander’s part, which was why Nobunaga had assigned this duty to Vassarfall, a member of the Flame Clan’s Five Division Commanders and perhaps his best general. Even if an enemy were to attack him now, he would be able to hold his current position until the Flame Clan could reinforce him.
With seemingly no warning, Vassarfall stood up and called out to his soldiers. “Men! Get ready to fight!”
Although he wasn’t an Einherjar, Vassarfall had honed his sense of hearing through a lifetime of intense training that put the senses of any Einherjar in Yggdrasil to shame. His practically supernatural sense of hearing had keyed him into the sounds of a force of over ten thousand rapidly approaching his position.
“Are you serious?!” his Second, Fluss, asked with a note of alarm. He had served with Vassarfall for over a decade, and Vassarfall had never been wrong when making this sort of observation. But even then, he still had to check.
“I am deadly serious. They truly are such inconsiderate fellows. We have been granted the opportunity to bear witness to a grand event—the burning of the Holy Capital! Why do these heathens wish to take this chance away from me? Why do the gods allow this sort of blasphemy?! Oh, the inhumanity! Why couldn’t they have gone east or west?! Why must they come to me?!” Vassarfall lamented with a theatrical display of disappointment.
To a casual observer, it appeared that he was simply hamming it up, but Vassarfall meant every word. The pursuit of beauty was his life’s purpose. To him, commanding an army was secondary—something he did to pass the time as he sought out the next great work of art.
“Yes, yes. Time to come back to this world, sir. The enemy’s coming, right?” Fluss casually ignored Vassarfall’s theatrics and set the conversation back on course. He was thoroughly used to his commander’s eccentricities.
“You truly are a man who doesn’t appreciate sublimity...” Vassarfall responded.
“I’ll listen to whatever lectures you wish to give on the subject once the battle is over, so can you please focus on the battle for now?”
Vassarfall’s expression brightened at Fluss’s comment. The disappointment previously present upon his features quickly cleared away. Vassarfall understood he was a man who walked his own arduous path. As someone who wished to achieve his greatest goals, it was his fate to find himself doomed to solitude. He had made his peace with that years ago, but it was only human to want to be able to share his insights with another. Vassarfall was starved for the chance to share his sensibilities with like-minded individuals.
“You’ll hear whatever I have to say, you said?! I’ll hold you to that, Fluss! At the very least, we’re going to spend three days and nights talking about the sublime!” Vassarfall declared as he leaned forward. This was what made people avoid him in social situations, but he was completely oblivious to that fact. At the same time, it was this passion—this obsessive concentration—that served as the foundation for his impressive abilities.
“...I understand, and I promise I shall do so. Now, please, let’s get to work.”
The short pause was probably Fluss regretting his remark, but Vassarfall clearly didn’t notice as he nodded enthusiastically.
“All right then! A man’s word is sacred! It’s a promise! Wooo! I’m feeling inspired!” Vassarfall proclaimed.
“Well, that’s lovely,” Fluss replied as he let out a deep sigh, a thoroughly tired expression painted across his face.
He was a somewhat fussy man who was willing to serve as a sacrificial lamb for the sake of his clan and for his subordinates. Of course, he had no doubt that the price he was going to pay was worth it. Despite the man himself claiming that fighting was simply a diversion from his true passion, Vassarfall was still one of the Flame Clan’s Five Division Commanders, known to many as “Vassarfall, Master of Advance and Retreat.” Their enemy was the Steel Clan led by Yuuto Suoh, a monster who had conquered half of Yggdrasil in a mere handful of years. Vassarfall was perhaps the only man currently present who could put up a decent fight against him.
A member of Vassarfall’s unit gazed intently at the holy capital as it burned. He was young, perhaps in his early twenties. He was impressively built—possessing bulging muscles while still retaining a suppleness to his stance. His face was rugged, with a vertical scar over one eye, while the other glinted with the predatory sharpness of a hawk. A single glance showed that he was a man to be reckoned with.
His name was Hyuuga. He was a member of the five most powerful warriors in the Flame Clan, the Five Blades of the Flame Clan, and an aggressive general who led the vanguard within Vassarfall’s Third Division, the force that most often served as the vanguard of the Flame Clan Army.
“I guess this is the end for the Holy Ásgarðr Empire and the Steel Clan. Not nearly as great as all the rumors made them out to be. That Suoh Yuuto is a disappointment too. I suppose everyone is when compared to the Great Lord.” Hyuuga said and snorted with displeasure.
He was operating under the misapprehension that Nobunaga had set fire to the capital. To be clear, this wasn’t because he was incompetent. It bears remembering that the Flame Clan still relied primarily on mounted messengers for communication. That meant there was always some time lag in communications, and a messenger had yet to reach him. Then there was the fact that no sane defender would set their own fortress on fire. The only time one might do so was because they were aware they had no chance of victory and did so to deny the enemy any spoils of war. With all those points in mind, it was perfectly reasonable for Hyuuga to have assumed the flames meant Glaðsheimr had fallen.
“Wish they would’ve put up more of a fight,” he said with an irritated click of his tongue.
Hyuuga was an extremely ambitious man. He had secured his place as Vassarfall’s Assistant Second by aggressively pursuing results in the wars against the Wind, Lightning, Bow, and Spear Clans. And yet, this time, both at Gjallarbrú Fortress and the siege of Glaðsheimr, he had been reduced to forming part of the envelopment with no real chance to engage in battle. While there was no dishonor in serving as part of an encircling army, because of his youth and his pride in his own strength, it appeared as a complete waste of an opportunity to prove himself.
“Assistant Second! A message from Father! ‘The enemy approaches. Prepare to defend with all alacrity!’”
“Oh?”
Hyuuga’s brow twitched in curiosity at the messenger’s words. Vassarfall’s ears were special. If he said the enemy was coming, then it was most certainly true.
“Bad luck on their part, to run directly into our path,” Hyuuga stated as he grabbed his beloved spear and grinned a predatory grin. While he was one of the Five Blades of the Flame Clan, unlike Shiba, who was the First Blade, Hyuuga had no interest in mastering the art of fighting or searching for worthy opponents. Battle was simply a means to his own promotion. He had no reason to fear a fleeing enemy—they simply served as great prey for him to rack up kills from. The thought had not occurred to Hyuuga that the enemy was highly disciplined and motivated, ready to pounce upon his forces with murderous intent.
“The enemy’s charging in without slowing down!” one of Hyuuga’s men reported.
“They’re planning to try to break through our lines? Hah! They underestimate the Third Division. Tanegashima companies, get in position!”
Hyuuga immediately issued his orders. Arquebuses showed their true value not in offense but in defense. That was because rearming them required that the wielder stop and spend time reloading. That was a critical flaw when needing to charge toward an enemy, but it wasn’t a particularly glaring issue when they were used in defense. There was no need to move when defending, so a gunner could stand behind a barricade and take their time.
Based on the attacking force’s current distance, the tanegashima companies would have time for two full volleys. It would land a devastating blow to the enemy’s front line while slowing their advance. It was an extremely rational plan—or so it would have been, if he weren’t fighting against Suoh Yuuto.
“Fire!”
The arquebuses rumbled as they lashed out with their tongues of flame. The sound of their retorts echoed so loudly that Hyuuga felt the vibrations where he stood. As the thunder of the arquebuses receded—
“The enemy isn’t slowing at all! They’re showing no sign of hesitation as they charge!”
“Wha?!”
Hyuuga was shocked by his scout’s report. His enemies had always been utterly overwhelmed with fear when they were faced with the devastating power, range, and sound of the tanegashima volleys. It was completely beyond his comprehension to be witnessing an enemy force who appeared to be completely unfazed by the attack.
“Inconceivable!”
“They had been too distant for us to see it earlier, but the enemy soldiers are pushing a line of wagons as they advance! I believe those wagons stopped the bullets!”
“Whaaat?!” Hyuuga raised his voice in annoyance. Nobunaga was thorough in his intelligence gathering, and Hyuuga himself had been informed about the fact that the Steel Clan used wagons as temporary fortifications. But he had assumed that the wagons were made of wood, which had led him to draw the conclusion that while they might stop arrows, they’d splinter and break against arquebuses.
Yuuto had made sure to reinforce those assumptions. In this era, it was impossible to know detailed information about foreign clans. While it had become rather public knowledge that the Steel Clan achieved victory with the revolutionary use of wagons, there was no way to know the precise construction details of the wagons. In a stroke of genius, Yuuto had purposefully left several wheelbarrows for the Flame Clan to capture to give them the impression that the Steel Clan’s wagons were all made of wood.
However, the actual wagons used for combat were all iron-clad. They were also filled with sand and gravel. Even arquebuses couldn’t easily penetrate their defenses. The whole concept of lining up wagons and wheeled vehicles to serve as wagon walls had, in fact, been originally developed as a defensive measure against firearms. Of course, Hyuuga had no way of knowing such a thing.
“Tch. Try again! I’m sure a second barrage will slow them!” Hyuuga snarled out the words, as though trying to convince himself. It bore repeating, but Hyuuga wasn’t incompetent. He wasn’t an overly aggressive and reckless buffoon, but someone who spent long nights studying the numerous war manuals that had been translated by Ran. He was eager to challenge himself with new pursuits, enthusiastically took on work, and put in three times the effort of most, and perhaps most impressively, he had an extraordinary amount of combat experience for a man his age. The Flame Clan leadership considered him to be an important asset to the future of the clan. It was just that in this case, he was up against an opponent that was wholly superior to him.
“No effect! They won’t stop! They’re right in front of us!”
“I see that! Tanegashima companies, pull back! Spear companies forward!”
Hyuuga shouted out the orders with a sense of urgency. By creating a wall of infantry wielding long spears, they would be able to create an impenetrable wall of spears. It was one of the basic formations that the Flame Clan employed based on tactics Nobunaga had developed in the Land of the Rising Sun—
“A-Ahhh!”
The terrified screams of Flame Clan soldiers rang out from the front lines. The wagons filled with sand had plowed into their formation, having gained speed and momentum from traveling downhill. The reason Yuuto had chosen the northern gate, rather than the east—which would have been easier to escape from—or the west—which would have made it easier to rendezvous with reinforcements—was because the northern side of the city had a gentle downhill slope. There was no way for the spearmen to stop the hurtling wagons with just their spears. Their weapons either broke under the strain or the men were thrown aside by the sheer weight of the wagons. The wagons easily broke through the barricades, hit or ran over a large number of soldiers, and finally came to a stop. That wasn’t the end of their struggles, however...
“Maidens of the Waves, attack!”
From several of the wagons appeared several powerful warriors, each one a legendary figure worth dozens of men in their own right. Hyuuga’s men were professional soldiers rather than conscripted peasants—they had no farming obligations, and as such, were elites that spent each day drilling. Despite that, they were no use against opponents like these. They were scythed down like wheat by the Maidens of the Waves. Then came the rank and file members of the Steel Clan Army.
“Tch! Get out of the way! I’ll deal with this!” Hyuuga grabbed his spear and leaped into the fray. He fought bravely, going so far as to wound two of the Maidens of the Waves, but he was only one man against many more.
“The enemy general, Hyuuga, has been slain!” one of the Maidens yelled proudly, thrusting his severed head high into the air. The Steel Clan Army’s momentum increased, and they continued their assault against the Flame Clan’s Third Division.
“I bring word. Lady Erna has taken the head of the enemy general Hyuuga!” the messenger reported.
“Wonderful! Well done!” Yuuto replied.
Yuuto let out a cheer at the good news. He gripped his hand into a fist knowing that this gave his forces the momentum they needed, but it didn’t seem that it was all good news...
“However, Your Majesty...”
“What is it?”
The messenger’s expression clouded and Yuuto furrowed his brow. He had a bad feeling about this.
“Lady Erna and Lady Hrönn have been wounded and must withdraw from the fighting.”
“Those two?!” He couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise.
Erna and Hrönn weren’t any ordinary Einherjar. They were considered two of the three strongest warriors of the Sword Clan’s elite force, the Maidens of the Waves. As far as their combat prowess was concerned, they were far stronger than Yuuto’s bodyguard Felicia. For them to be wounded to the point of needing to withdraw was an extraordinary circumstance indeed.
“Are they in danger of dying?!” Yuuto asked frantically.
“I’m told it’s nothing that should be fatal, but their injuries are too serious for them to continue fighting,” the messenger responded.
Yuuto bit down on his lower lip with a sigh. It wasn’t the worst-case scenario, as the two of them didn’t have life-threatening injuries, but having two highly talented front line commanders out of the fight was still a painful loss.
“Tch. I suppose I should have expected this from someone as utilitarian as Oda Nobunaga. He has some talented men serving under him,” Yuuto spat with a sour click of his tongue. He wasn’t simply referring to Hyuuga. If anything, he was more focused on the man in overall command of the northern forces. “Based on the standards, it’s the Third Division... So, the Fafnir again...”
This was the same opponent he had faced in the earlier urban fighting within Glaðsheimr. While he had won that battle, the enemy commander had retreated as soon as he realized he was cornered, and he had skillfully frustrated Yuuto’s attempts to whittle their forces down, organizing a retreat that had kept the Flame Clan’s losses to a minimum.
This time, Yuuto had taken the initiative through the wagon wall charge and the rapid introduction of a large Einherjar force in the form of the Maidens of the Waves, and he had built on that momentum by killing one of the Third Division’s notable commanders. Yet through all that, the enemy was somehow maintaining their lines.
Ordinarily in war, once a side had gained a decisive advantage in a battle, the momentum would snowball in their favor, while the opposing side’s morale would collapse. To maintain an army’s morale and order under those circumstances was extremely challenging. It was what marked someone like Vassarfall as a great general.
“‘Master of Advance and Retreat’ indeed...” Yuuto said with a sigh.
Certainly, Vassarfall’s command of his forces lived up to his reputation. The outcome of this battle depended on whether or not he could finish off the Third Division before the Flame Clan forces positioned to the east and the west could reinforce them. If they weren’t able to win by then, there was a chance the Steel Clan forces would end up surrounded and at a disadvantage. There wasn’t much time to spare. But, evidently, this was an opponent who wouldn’t fold easily.
“This is not ideal...”
Meanwhile, in the Flame Clan’s ranks, Vassarfall, like Yuuto, had his expression furrowed in a frown. He thought he had made the best possible preparations for an enemy attack by installing barricades, positioning his valuable tanegashima companies behind them, and assigning Hyuuga, one of the Five Blades of the Flame Clan and a veteran general, in command of them. Despite his best efforts, however, when the enemy had actually appeared, the wagon charge easily broke through the barricades, and Hyuuga had quickly been slain. While no plan survived first contact with the enemy, things had gone further off the rails than Vassarfall had predicted.
“They’re ludicrously fast as always. And accurate. I hate to admit this about an enemy, but this is sublime.”
Vassarfall shrugged his shoulders and let out a sigh of admiration for Suoh Yuuto, the enemy commander. It had been the same when he had walked into the kill zone of the city of Glaðsheimr, but the enemy responded extremely quickly to his own movements. Each time he would try a tactic to try to reverse the course of the battle, the enemy rapidly disrupted it without a moment’s hesitation. It was enough to make him believe in precognition.
“This isn’t the time to be admiring their work! You need to think of something...” Fluss, his Second, pleaded in a panic.
“It’s as you say, but this is a tad much for me to handle alone...” Vassarfall replied as he scratched at the back of his head in thought. If the enemy were to overcommit because they had the advantage, or if they moved too quickly, he’d at least have some way to respond, but they were too well-disciplined and fast to leave any openings for him to exploit.
“He’s two, maybe three steps above me. He’s simply in a different tier from me. I can see why they call him a god of war,” Vassarfall stated. He casually accepted his defeat and shrugged his shoulders. Even if they had faced off on equal terms rather than having allowed the Steel Clan to grab the initiative, he probably would have lost anyway. The reality, of course, was that the battle had started with the momentum already on his enemy’s side. There was no way he could win. His children pinned their hopes on Vassarfall, but he knew he was out of options.
“Of course, even if winning isn’t possible, there still remain ways to fight under these challenging circumstances,” Vassarfall said with a smirk. He had given up on winning on his own—meaning it was time for his forces, the Third Division, to focus on defense, and win using the strength of others. The Flame Clan not only had the twenty thousand soldiers here on the north end, but there were also twenty thousand in the west, twenty thousand in the east, and forty thousand with the main body to the south. The southern forces would probably take too long to reach the Third Division’s location, but the distance to the northern forces from the western and eastern forces wasn’t that large. If they could hold out long enough, Flame Clan reinforcements could catch the Steel Clan forces in a pincer movement.
“No need to get greedy. If there’s a fish that you can see but can’t catch, the best thing to do is ignore it,” Vassarfall said with a triumphant grin. If he made an effort to win the battle now, he risked the enemy exploiting his desperation to corner him further. By all accounts, it was better to simply give up on winning for the time being and stall the Steel Clan’s advance upon them. The correct decision right now was to hold out, even if it wasn’t going to be the easiest thing to do. That was the conclusion he had come to through all of his calculations.
While most impressions of Vassarfall tended to focus on his extraordinary sense of hearing, his most impressive trait as a commander was his ability to completely discard any personal feelings and stick to strictly objective analysis.
Nobunaga was going out of his way to reward his subordinates in this war. Vassarfall had already been rewarded with Ingrid’s glass goblet, but of course, he was far from satisfied with that acquisition. There were plenty of other things he wanted. The thing he wanted more than anything else was Ingrid herself. How lovely it would be to receive her as a reward for his accomplishments and have her craft art for him and him alone. The mere thought was enough to make him salivate. However, Vassarfall was not a man who let his greed warp his decision-making. He was unaffected by his emotions and would always choose the best option that was available to him. It sounded simple, but it wasn’t something most could accomplish.
So, why was Vassarfall capable of doing so? That was because he believed that to do so was the most beautiful and sublime embodiment of a general. He was willing to sacrifice anything for the sake of the sublime. That was exactly why Nobunaga gave Vassarfall the Third Division, putting him ahead in seniority of Kuuga of the Fifth Division and Old Man Salk of the Fourth Division.
“Shall we drown in the mud together, Suoh Yuuto? Not to worry, the truly sublime still shines within the mud.” Vassarfall chanted, practically singing the words with a theatrical flair. When both generals were cornered, who would continue to make the right decisions? Who would remain the most sublime? Exploring that question was, in itself, another exploration of the sublime.
“Heh. It’s exciting to think of the sublimity that is to come,” Vassarfall said with great anticipation in his voice.
It was like how a modern shogi master was obsessed with exquisite layouts of pieces on the board. Vassarfall was willing to find a way to pursue the sublime, to enjoy the moment, even as he was in a life-threatening situation. It was clearly not the thought pattern of an ordinary man. It was what marked him, like his liege and his opponent, as a great man of history.
The battle of northern Glaðsheimr had been raging for nearly an hour. The Steel Clan remained at an advantage.
“Advance! Advance!”
The one commanding the forces at the very front was Thír, first of the Maidens of the Waves. While she appeared to be in her mid-twenties, she was already over forty years of age. She, of course, had plentiful combat experience, and given her skill with herding the often unpredictable Einherjar in battle, Yuuto had placed her in command of the Steel Clan Army’s front line.
A roar rose from the ranks at Thír’s encouragement. Slaying Hyuuga of the Five Blades of the Flame Clan had given an enormous boost to the Steel Clan Army’s morale. The visible sign of their advantage encouraged the troops, and the army’s momentum grew significantly. They quickly began to break the Flame Clan Army’s formation from the center. They finally broke not only Hyuuga’s first wave, but the second wave of defense too.
“Hm?”
Awaiting them beyond the quickly breaking lines of the second wave of defenders was a group of enemy archers. The twang of bowstrings rang out as arrows flew mercilessly at them.
“Useless! Sweep them out of the sky!” Thír yelled out.
Upon her instruction, the soldiers lifted their long spears from the ground, pointed them into the air, and began waving them from side to side. It was the basic defense against arrows for a phalanx formation. Still, it wasn’t quite enough to stop the entire barrage.
“Guh!”
“Urgh!”
“Ahh!”
Most of the arrows were successfully deflected and safely clattered to the ground, or were deflected by armor and shields, but a handful of arrows pierced the bodies of Steel Clan soldiers. Thankfully, the Steel Clan Army had enough momentum that it was barely slowed by the arrows.
They let out a battle cry and charged into the third group of defenders. The two armies once again clashed. The Steel Clan, as before, emerged victorious from the shoving match. Because they had already been at speed, they had more momentum than the defenders. Had they been fighting any other clan, the Steel Clan’s advantage in spear reach would have let them push through the enemy defenses. However, the Flame Clan’s soldiers were also equipped with spears that were nearly twice the length of standard spears. Furthermore, they had managed to weaken some of the Steel Clan Army’s momentum with the arrow barrage. The Steel Clan ranks weren’t able to fully break through the enemy lines, and the battle slowed into a melee.
“Tch.”
Thír chewed at her thumb in irritation. While the two armies were locked in close quarters, the Steel Clan still held the advantage, and they were slowly pushing forward. At this rate, they would eventually break through the Flame Clan Army’s ranks. Eventually wasn’t good enough though. Yuuto had given Thír specific instructions to quickly take out the commander of the northern army so as to avoid being exposed to a flanking attack by enemy reinforcements. She was fighting more against time than she was against the army in front of her.
“The lack of Erna and Hrönn hurts under these circumstances.”
While all of the Maidens of the Waves were elites that were handpicked and trained by Thír, Erna, with her powerful legs, and Hrönn, with her exceptional arm strength, were particularly useful for breaking stalemates like the present situation.
“No point in pining for spilled milk. Læva! Uðr! Go charge in! Do as much damage as you can.”
“Yes ma’am!”
“Understood!”
She sent two of her subordinates who had been standing in wait next to her. Their abilities were better suited to defense, but she wasn’t in a position to be choosy. Right now, what they needed was the force to be able to break through to the enemy’s command area, which meant the only thing she could do was throw in all of her forces. Would they succeed?
“We’ve broken through the enemy formation!”
“Good!”
Thír gripped her hand into a fist upon hearing the good news. It was an unusually animated response for a woman that her protégés typically described behind her back as having more in common with marble statues than flesh and blood. That was just how important the report of breaking through the enemy formation was to her.
“Now, continue on to the enemy—”
Thír’s words cut off in mid-sentence. Despite having broken through the enemy ranks, there was another enemy formation waiting for them beyond it. She felt a sense of déjà vu at the sight.
“What in the blazes is going on?!”
Despite breaking through formation after formation, they were no closer to the enemy’s commander. It was as though she was stuck in an endless loop...
Elsewhere, at around the same time, a messenger sent by Vassarfall had reached Nobunaga.
“The Steel Clan has engaged our northern forces. The enemy has a great deal of momentum. Our men require immediate reinforcements,” the messenger reported.
A murmur coursed through among the generals gathered. They weren’t surprised by the content of the message, but rather that Nobunaga had been prescient in expecting a Steel Clan attack.
“The northern forces, you say? I suppose that’s about right.”
They were situated in a position furthest from the main Flame Clan Army force in the south, and the terrain of the area featured a downward slope. It was the best place to attack.
“Have requests for reinforcements been sent to the western and eastern armies?” Nobunaga asked the messenger.
“Yes, of course, My Lord,” he replied.
“I see. While they’re not quite up to the standard of any of the commanders of the five divisions, they’re both competent leaders in their own rights. No doubt they’ve already started making their way to the north,” Nobunaga stated.
If those generals were so incompetent that they wouldn’t move under the circumstances, they had no value to Nobunaga. He would simply execute them and replace them. Although Nobunaga wasn’t some omnipotent deity and had no way of knowing, the western and eastern armies had already sent ten thousand soldiers northward to reinforce Vassarfall.
“It may be the most appropriate place to attack. Though deciding to attack Vassar... Poor bastards,” Nobunaga said and chuckled with a malicious grin.
No doubt the Steel Clan wanted to avoid the pincer movement being orchestrated by the western and eastern army reinforcements at all costs. They would try to take down Vassarfall’s northern army as quickly as possible. As a result of that choice, they had put themselves against the worst opponent. In the Flame Clan Army, Vassarfall was known as the “Master of Advance and Retreat,” and though he was good at advance, being an excellent commander of the vanguard, he was even better at fighting retreats and other forms of defensive fighting.
“Hah, very true.”
“Big Brother Vassarfall has that special card up his sleeve, after all.”
“Indeed, even Suoh Yuuto won’t be able to defeat that.”
The generals spoke their piece and nodded to one another in agreement. They clearly understood what Nobunaga meant. They, too, were well aware of Vassarfall’s strength. He had served as their shield countless times.
“Don’t underestimate our opponent too much. He’s a man who conquered half of Yggdrasil in a single reign. Even Vassar likely won’t last too long against him. We must move immediately. It’s time to finish off the Steel Clan!” Nobunaga exclaimed.
“Yes, My Lord!” the generals said in unison and stood at attention. The main body of the Flame Clan in the south began its move northward.
“We still can’t get through...?”
Thír was unable to hide her irritation as her forces struggled to break through the Flame Clan formation. They were now facing the enemy’s fourth line of defense. Her forces were clearly struggling to push through. It wasn’t because the enemy was stronger than the previous lines of defense. It was simply because they had lost some of their momentum. Even Einherjar were still only human. They, like any other soldier, grew tired from constant fighting, and their movements became more sluggish. They had run out of ammunition and tetsuhaus, and there was no time to resupply.
“Perhaps I should have held more in reserve. No. That would have been unwise,” Thír muttered to herself.
Deploying one’s forces in a trickle was a foolish tactic. This battle was a race against time. If she had kept any portion of her forces in reserve over concerns about having them available later, her men might not have even broken through the enemy’s second line of defense. It was possible they would have struggled against Hyuuga and lost their momentum entirely. More importantly, in an emergency, the Maidens of the Waves had one final trump card up their sleeve. An ultimate ability that would remove all of their fatigue if necessary.
“Hm?”
Thír suddenly felt a rush of strength bubbling up from her core. It was a strange phenomenon, but it was a familiar feeling for her.
“Ah, His Majesty has ordered the use of Gjallarhorn. His sense of timing is impressive as always,” she said smugly as she curled her lips in a grin. Thír had been on the verge of requesting its use over the radio. Although Yuuto was at the rear of the army, he had read the flow of the battle better than Thír and taken the necessary steps before she could ask for them. While he had been an incredibly difficult opponent as an enemy, there was nothing more reassuring than having him in command as an ally.
“Right then! Men, unleash the surprise!” she ordered.
“Err?! Really?! Are you sure there’s any meaning to doing it?” her second-in-command responded as he raised his brow skeptically at Thír’s command.
She understood where he was coming from. The objects they were supposed to throw didn’t seem like they’d be much use. If anything, they might get better results from just throwing rocks. That was fine, though. They appeared like something entirely different from what they actually were.
“You feel it as well, don’t you?! The ásmegin from Gjallarhorn! There’s no better time to make use of it!” Thír stated.
“U-Understood, ma’am!”
“Let loose!”
The orders echoed through the Steel Clan lines, and they began throwing urns at the Flame Clan formation. They were simple earthenware urns. There was nothing contained within them. However...
“By the gods!”
“Explosives!”
“All units, take cover!”
The Flame Clan soldiers hurriedly tried to avoid the oncoming urns in a panic. They believed the simple urns were tetsuhaus. That was understandable. After all, the Steel Clan had repeatedly employed tetsuhaus against the Flame Clan’s ranks. Thír had heard that they had even been employed in suicide attacks during the retreat from Gjallarbrú Fortress. The Flame Clan’s soldiers had been conditioned to fear the weapons.
This had been the plan Hveðrungr had proposed to Yuuto during their war council. There was an endless supply of empty urns sitting in the abandoned houses of Glaðsheimr. They would be able to make the enemy scatter without using a single grain of precious gunpowder. It was an environmentally friendly tactic that employed the deep understanding of human psychology that made Hveðrungr such an effective tactician. Of course, they were still simply empty urns. The enemy would immediately see that they didn’t explode. They only shrank back for a moment before they realized they’d been duped. That moment was more than enough, however.
“Now! All of you, follow me! Now is the time! Break the enemy with all of your strength!”
Thír held up her sword and urged on her soldiers, charging into the enemy ranks and cutting down enemy after enemy. The soldiers who followed in her wake no longer showed the haggard expressions they had a moment before; instead, their eyes burned with a fiery battle lust, and the men fought with an intensity that, by all accounts, would lead any observer to believe that the battle had just started.
Gjallarhorn, the Call to War. It was a rune that turned allied soldiers into berserkers who didn’t fear death and weren’t affected by fatigue. The rune was so powerful that it had been known as the Rune of Kings. By utilizing its savage power, the struggle from earlier seemed like a distant dream as they scythed through the enemy ranks. Again and again, they cut down the enemies before them. At long last, they broke through the fourth formation.
“This is... Impossible...”
However, what awaited them beyond that fourth rank was not the enemy’s commander and his forces, but a fifth formation of defenders.
“They’ve broken through the fourth layer as well? That’s quite a bit faster than expected. The Steel Clan truly does possess some impressive fighters.”
Deep within the Flame Clan formation, Vassarfall let out a tired chuckle—a chuckle that also showed he still had some confidence in his own position. That was only natural though, given what his men were currently preparing under his orders.
“How’s the sixth layer coming?” Vassarfall asked one of his generals.
“They’re currently mustering,” the man replied.
Unbeknownst to the Steel Clan, Vassarfall’s unit still had walls remaining. The tactic he was currently employing was known as the Infinite Spiral Formation—a name Vassarfall himself had come up with. While the Flame Clan was now known as a great power in Yggdrasil that boasted overwhelming military numbers, until just two years ago, they had done their best to avoid agitating their neighboring clans and had been focused on defending their territory in Múspelheim until their preparations had been complete. This formation was what he had used during that time, and it had achieved amazing results in every deployment.
The key to this formation’s success was to take the soldiers who retreated from the rear of a broken defensive formation and immediately reorganize them into a new wall. Ordinarily, it was foolish to employ forces in succession rather than all at once. That was because separating the forces into layers made each of those layers weaker and vastly increased the probability of the army as a whole being completely routed. However, if the goal of their redeployment was restricted simply to keeping the enemy occupied, Vassarfall believed there was no formation that was more effective.
The enemy was forced to slow when it clashed with the next defensive layer. On top of that, if they kept running into additional walls of enemies, it was possible to sap the enemy’s morale by making them feel as though they were fighting against an army of infinite numbers. Vassarfall had been given the title Master of Advance and Retreat out of gratitude when he had employed this formation to save the lives of countless members of the Flame Clan Army.
“We’re having some trouble gathering our soldiers back up after they retreat. It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to form a seventh wall,” the general informed him, continuing his report.
“That makes sense, I suppose. There’s a bunch of them who were conscripted only recently,” Vassarfall responded as he scratched at his head with a sigh. The career soldiers in the northern army numbered roughly nine thousand. The remaining ten thousand men were conscripted farmers who had been summoned for this war—virtual amateurs who had gotten, at most, a month of training before being sent to war.
“It is as you say, sir. We gave strict orders that they follow the guidance of the trained soldiers, but...”
“Well, sure, the ones that’ll run will run anyway. Not a problem. I’d already accounted for that in my calculations,” Vassarfall said coldly without much interest. He believed that the greatest weakness of his formation was that it was too perfect. Truly wonderful, sublime things were often beyond comprehension to mundane minds. The conscripts, having seen the enemy break their lines and push in, had been caught up in what they immediately saw before them and ran in a panic. It was a lamentable limitation.
“It appears that the enemy’s momentum has increased immensely. If nothing changes, even the fifth layer won’t last long,” Fluss said with a tense expression. His observation was correct, but that was something Vassarfall had already accounted for before the battle had even begun.
“It’s probably Gjallarhorn, the rune of the Sword Clan patriarch Fagrahvél. That, too, isn’t a problem. The rune’s duration is short; its purpose is to create decisive victories. It won’t last long,” Vassarfall replied calmly.
“I see...”
“Heh heh. Let’s just have them waste that power against our fifth layer,” Vassarfall said with a confident chuckle. The enemy was now caught in a spider’s web, a trap where the more they struggled, the more they sapped their own strength. They were far too committed at this point. Surely they were trapped.
“Now, all that’s left is to wait for reinforcements,” Vassarfall stated.
There was no need for him to deliver the coup de grâce. It was a bit irritating that he had to let someone else claim the enemy leader’s head, particularly given that Vassarfall wasn’t fond of either the western or eastern army commanders. There was nothing to be done about it though. He wrote it off to the whims of fate.
“I’m sure the Great Lord will understand,” Vassarfall murmured with conviction.
Nobunaga was a man who acknowledged and properly appreciated the importance of plain or unflashy work. That was why men like Kuuga and himself were counted among the Five Division Commanders. For this reason, Vassarfall was confident that Nobunaga would properly appreciate his efforts this time as well. He chose to believe that and simply continued to do his job. While the battle was proceeding as Vassarfall had intended, he was still facing an enemy he couldn’t afford to underestimate.
“Tch. This guy’s like gum that’s stuck on the bottom of your shoes,” Yuuto spat out the words with an irritated click of his tongue. He wanted to end this battle as quickly as possible, and as if to spite him, the enemy force simply presented him with another layer of soldiers each time they broke through one. They were facing a supremely troublesome opponent. Of course, that was perhaps one of the greatest compliments he could pay to his current enemy.
“How are they even managing this? They should only have twenty thousand men or so. It feels like we’re fighting twice that number,” Felicia said, furrowing her brow. Her voice was tinged with worry. Yuuto understood how she felt. He would be lying if he said he had no worries about how long it would take to reach the enemy’s command formation or whether they could even win this battle before reinforcements arrived. However, it was a commander’s job to not let those sorts of things show on his face.
“They’ve probably been ordered to retreat and regroup once their line is broken. They’re taking those retreating soldiers and reorganizing them into a new defensive formation. Meanwhile, the command company is pulling backward. It’s defense in depth,” Yuuto explained. He made sure to name the enemy’s tactics so that those around him were aware he knew what was happening. That was because that awareness alone was enough to provide reassurance.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard that term,” Felicia said and pouted slightly. She was his adjutant, and she was responsible for connecting and communicating between Yuuto to other members of the army, meaning that she was aware of most military matters that Yuuto dealt with. She was probably displeased that there was a tactic that she hadn’t been informed about.
“I had no intention of using the tactic myself, and I never expected someone to pull it on me,” Yuuto replied with a shrug of his shoulders, insisting on his own innocence.
“What do you mean?” Felicia asked.
“Ordinarily, the point of defense is to keep the enemy from breaking through, and you do that by stopping their advance. This, however, is a defensive tactic that’s meant to work by slowing the enemy’s advance rather than stopping it,” Yuuto responded.
“It certainly sounds like a useful tactic depending on the situation,” Felicia stated.
“In concept, it’s close to the Ox-Yoke Formation that we used against Steinþórr. It’s quite a bit more complex to execute in practice, however. It’s not something that can be learned overnight. It requires a lot of arrangements, and those need to be communicated, if not to the line soldiers, then at least to unit commanders, and they need to understand precisely how it works to be able to pull it off reliably enough for it to be useful,” Yuuto explained.
“Ah, that’s quite a bit of work.”
“It is. The biggest problem is that it’s predicated on having your defensive lines being broken down.”
“It’s difficult enough to simply maintain morale when that’s happening...”
“Exactly.”
The average soldier was extremely sensitive to the flow of a battle. If they see their side is at a disadvantage, they often just run, which sets off a chain reaction of panic. The strategy in question required a force to allow the enemy to keep breaking through their defensive lines as their men retreated slowly in tandem with their command staff, all the while reassuring the soldiers that everything is perfectly fine so that they’ll continue to move as instructed. This wasn’t something that could be done on the fly. It was impossible to accomplish without properly educating and training the soldiers far in advance.
“It’s a tactic that only the Flame Clan, who created a standing professional army from the very start, can pull off,” Yuuto stated.
They probably spent quite a bit of time drilling for just this tactic. Or at the very least, there were quite a few among the enemy’s ranks who had prior experience in pulling off this tactic. The Flame Clan had conducted a mass levee, doubling their numbers through conscription just before this war. Without veteran soldiers to lead the conscripts, they wouldn’t have been able to execute this tactic so well.
“Lady Fagrahvél is nearing her limit. Is there nothing more we can do?”
“Even if they’re slowly pulling back as they reform their defensive lines, they won’t be able to create defensive walls forever. If we keep breaking through their lines, we’ll eventually reach their main body. That said, continuing like this is still risky.”
The layers of defenses killed his army’s momentum and also sapped it of strength. The fact of the matter was that Erna and Hrönn had been knocked out of the battle. He’d also received reports that the other Maidens of the Waves had been forced to withdraw due to fatigue. Gjallarhorn wouldn’t last much longer either.
“For what it’s worth, we’ll be just fine,” Yuuto said casually, as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
“You have a secret plan up your sleeve, don’t you?” Felicia asked and smiled as though she had been let in on a secret. Suoh Yuuto was a man who always took extreme care in his preparations. If he was this confident, then he must have something already prepared. This time was different, however. He slowly shook his head in response.
“No, I don’t,” he replied.
“Oh?!”
Felicia let out a note of surprise at the unexpected reply.
“I do have faith, though...”
“Huh? Wha...?!”
Felicia’s confusion deepened and she blinked. It wasn’t the sort of statement Yuuto ordinarily made. Yuuto watched her and burst out laughing, unable to contain his amusement. “The Flame Clan forces aren’t the only ones waiting for reinforcements. They should be close by now, right? She’s probably caught the scent. You have, haven’t you, Rún?”
“Wow, they’re really fighting!” Hildegard remarked loudly.
“I read it right,” Sigrún stated as her lips curled faintly into a bright smile. When Glaðsheimr had gone up in flames, she had panicked and had fought the urge to charge in to join Yuuto. What came next convinced her to stay her hand, however...
“It smells like alcohol. Also, what’s this awful smell? Urgh, I feel sick,” Hildegard complained.
Hildegard’s words had quickly calmed her down. Hildegard’s nose was exceptionally sharp. Although Sigrún hadn’t been able to detect the same scents, she had faith that if Hildegard smelled it, then it was most certainly there. Alcohol, some other different, terrible smell, and fire. Those three factors pointed to a single answer: the fires had been set not by the Flame Clan, but by Yuuto in an attempt to draw the enemy into Glaðsheimr proper, to then destroy them with an even fiercer fire.
Contemplating all this, Sigrún had begun to think of what would come next. Once he had the enemy fall for his trap, Yuuto wouldn’t simply sit around. That was particularly true since the Flame Clan still had a large army arrayed around Glaðsheimr’s walls. Then which direction would he go? North, South, East, or West?
That, too, was an easy question to answer. The flames were raging in the south. Even Yuuto wouldn’t be able to get an army through that raging inferno. If anything, that fire was a wall that kept the enemy out.
Then would he head east in the hope of escape? No, that wasn’t it either. While news of their arrival had been intercepted by the Flame Clan, Yuuto was already aware that Sigrún had defeated Shiba. After all, Linnea had received a reply to that report. In which case, Yuuto would use this opportunity to inflict losses on the enemy while also joining with their forces. That would eliminate the east, which was furthest from the Bifröst region, leaving only the west and the north.
Between those two choices, north was the only sensible choice. The north was the furthest from Nobunaga’s main body to the south, and there was a gentle downward slope, making it ideal for an attack.
All that remained for Sigrún and her forces was to head in that direction at full speed. The smell of crude oil that wafted in the air like a strange type of beacon only strengthened her conviction. While she would ordinarily have pinched her nose at the smell, today, she found it a more pleasant smell than any perfume. After some time marching, the battlefield where the two clans’ armies clashed was now spread out in front of their eyes.
“As I hear of the Steel Clan managing to break through our sixth layer of defenses, I’m reminded of the power of a raging river,” Vassarfall said and let out a long sigh. By his calculations, they should have been able to stop the enemy around the fourth layer. He hadn’t imagined they’d make it through the sixth layer. Still, while it was a bit of a make-shift formation, the seventh layer had already been assembled. It really had been quite the close call.
“This should last us a bit longer. Besides, Gjallarhorn appears to have run its course,” Vassarfall stated as he smiled widely.
The Steel Clan Army’s momentum had evaporated, as though their previous strength had been an illusion. They were struggling against the improvised and fragile seventh line of defense. The various Einherjar who had gone on a rampage on the front lines and inspired the Steel Clan’s soldiers must have been totally exhausted by now—they weren’t showing the same invincibility they had at the start of the battle. The enemy was no longer firing projectiles like arrows and tetsuhaus at them either. They were out of reserves.
Of course, with a little time, the numerous Steel Clan Einherjar would return to the front line, and the soldiers resting at the rear would probably regain their strength. They would eventually get fresh supplies from Glaðsheimr as well. However, the Flame Clan reinforcements would most definitely arrive before any of those things happened.
“Somehow managed to win—Hm?!”
It was at the exact moment he was convinced of his victory that his ears caught an impossible sound.
“The sound of a group of horses?! Could it be the Múspell Unit?!”
Even Vassarfall doubted what his own ears told him. But, how? They had made sure to close off any lines of communication between the main Steel Clan Army and the Múspells. Despite those efforts, however, this was clearly a coordinated movement between the two forces.
“They’ve caught us from behind. Tch, we’re in trouble.”
All confidence drained from Vassarfall’s face. That, too, was understandable. The Infinite Spiral Formation—although in reality, it was finite rather than infinite—focused most of an army’s forces to the front, leaving practically nothing behind the command company. The formation left the army completely defenseless from an enemy attack from behind.
“Fluss! Send the eighth layer behind the command company!”
“Whaa?! But that line is barely assembled!”
“That’s fine! Just hurry!”
“U-Understood!”
Fluss hurriedly sent a messenger with the orders. However...
“Gah!”
“Urgh!”
“It’s the enemy! The Steel Clan is attacking!”
Before the breakaway layer could arrive, the Steel Clan’s cavalry poured into the command company. Because it was the command company, it was protected by the most elite warriors of the Third Division, but they put up little resistance. The defenders were cut down one after the other.
“Blast. This is a loss! Everyone! Retreaaaat!”
Vassarfall immediately concluded that the jig was up and began to run himself. Staying and putting his life on the line to fight wasn’t an option for him. This failure would probably mean he’d lose his position as a division commander, but so long as he was alive, he could always recover. What mattered now was survival. His ability to switch tracks so quickly was a sign of his intelligence and ability as a leader.
“Hah! Found you! Prepare to die!”
His orders must have tipped off the enemy, as one of the cavalry charged at Vassarfall and attacked him with her lance.
“Whooa!”
Vassarfall jumped out of the way with great agility and managed to avoid the blow. The enemy that had targeted him was a pig-tailed girl that looked barely old enough to even hold a spear. However, the strength behind her attack was far beyond anything a girl her age ought to be capable of. Vassarfall effortlessly avoided the barrage of deadly thrusts that were directed at him. Other enemy troopers noticed his presence and they turned to attack him, but Vassarfall easily avoided their attacks and began to flee.
“Wait!”
“Stay and fight!”
“The enemy general’s making a run for it! After him!”
Of course, the enemy troopers gave chase, but—
“Wha?!”
“Ugh!”
“Get out of the way!”
He opened the distance with his well-trained legs. The reason he had shouted out the order to retreat and let the enemy know he was the commander had been to draw their forces to him and try to allow his subordinates to flee, but Vassarfall wasn’t the type to go so far as to sacrifice his own safety in the process. He had only done so because he was confident he could escape.
He had originally come from a family of spies. He was considered to be the family’s greatest product. His physical abilities, too, were extraordinary. Not that it was enough to outrun cavalry horses, but friend and foe were engaged in a pitched melee. Horses weren’t able to simply chase in a straight line without running into another combatant.
By contrast, Vassarfall was able to smoothly weave his way through the throng like a snake slithering across the ground. The nickname of Fafnir, the Immortal Imp, which he had acquired by not suffering so much as a scratch in his ten years of service to the Flame Clan, was well deserved. If he could just get to the forest—
“Whoooa!”
A spear hurtled toward the space Vassarfall had occupied a mere moment before, piercing the ground as though it had been planted there. Had it hit him, there would be a huge hole in his body.
“Tch. It’s hard to aim properly with my left arm.”
The wind carried a cool, beautiful voice—one that was out of place on the battlefield—to his ears. The first thing Vassarfall saw when he turned around was silver hair that shimmered like cold steel. He knew at a single glance. She was the war maiden Sigrún, the greatest fighter in the Steel Clan, and the warrior who had slain the absurdly skilled Shiba. She was the one person he wanted to avoid at all costs. He needed to get away as quickly as possible. However, he stopped in mid-stride.
“Can’t be too picky when I’m not in peak condition. Come, face me!”
Sigrún drew the sword from her hip, spurring her horse and charging at Vassarfall. He did nothing to fight or to flee, instead simply standing there and taking her blade to his body. It had happened so smoothly and so quickly that Sigrún, who had cut him down, was caught by surprise. As he collapsed, Vassarfall murmured with a satisfied smile.
“Sublime...”
That was the last word he ever uttered.
“Sieg Iárn!”
“Sieg þjóðann!”
The joyful shouts of the soldiers rang out from the front lines. It seemed they had won something of significance. The radio Yuuto was holding suddenly burst out in static.
“Your Majesty! Lady Sigrún’s Múspell Unit arrived and slew the enemy general Vassarfall!”
“Ah! Good! She did it!”
Upon hearing Thír’s report, Yuuto broke his stoic facade and let out a whoop of joy.
“I see, so you were counting on Rún... But you hadn’t contacted her, right?” Felicia asked.
She nodded as though she had figured it out, but now she was puzzled by another question. Almost all of the orders Yuuto issued were carried out through her. She had no recollection of receiving a message or sending a message to Sigrún. That was, of course, because Yuuto hadn’t done either of those things.
“I hadn’t, no,” Yuuto replied.
“Then how did...?”
“Like I said. I have faith in her,” Yuuto said casually.
He hadn’t received any news of their arrival, nor had he issued any orders. It hadn’t been a result of any sort of plan, it had been a hope and a prayer. As a ruler, he knew it wasn’t the sort of gamble he should take, particularly since so many lives depended upon his judgment. Yuuto had been convinced that she would arrive, however. Even without a message to that effect, based on Sigrún’s personality, he knew that she would be near Glaðsheimr—that she would see the signs Yuuto had left for her to follow.
He and Sigrún had shared four years of hardship and joys, and they’d experienced many life-and-death situations. Yuuto knew that she would fulfill his expectations. It was all as he had hoped for, including the fact that she had arrived with the best possible gift in tow.
“She’s a wonderful daughter, far more than I deserve,” Yuuto stated proudly.
Yuuto couldn’t help but thank the gods that she had been a member of the Wolf Clan. Without her, it was possible that they would have lost one of their wars, the clan would have been destroyed, and Yuuto himself would be a corpse. Sigrún was a goddess of victory, both for Yuuto and for the Steel Clan itself.
“Guess I don’t have time to be reveling,” he remarked, centering himself. This was still a battlefield, after all. While the Flame Clan Army’s Third Division, the force they had been fighting until several minutes ago, had fallen into disarray and started its retreat after losing Vassarfall, its commander, the Flame Clan’s western and eastern armies along with the main force to the south remained intact and were heading toward them. If they caught him in a pincer, the Steel Clan forces would be annihilated. The Steel Clan’s units had accomplished their objective. It was past time to get out while they could.
“We’ll be returning to Glaðsheimr—in triumph no less!”
“Sieg Iárn!”
The cheers of the Steel Clan soldiers echoed across the plains around the city. And so, the Battle of Northern Glaðsheimr ended in a victory for the Steel Clan.
“...I see. Vassar has fallen. A pity to lose such a man,” Nobunaga closed his eyes and murmured the words, placing his hand against his right breast and nodding in respectful salute.
While Vassarfall had been an eccentric man, Nobunaga himself had been a bit of an eccentric in his youth and had felt a certain kinship with the fallen general. He had also liked the fact that Vassarfall was not afraid to stand up to him, and that he didn’t shy away from arguing his points if he truly believed them to be right. There had been times he had found the man’s long soliloquies irritating, and now that he knew he would never hear them again, he found himself thinking back wistfully about them. Although Nobunaga was ruthless to the extreme when it came to his enemies, for those he was close to, he was, if anything, an extremely compassionate and loving man. He wanted to linger in sentimentality for a while longer, but as the supreme commander of an army like the Flame Clan’s, he didn’t have that luxury.
“What is the situation in the north?” Nobunaga asked one of his scouts.
“It appears the Steel Clan Army has already retreated into Glaðsheimr. The northern army that had been anchored by the Third Division has fled the field. Currently, the eastern and western armies are taking in survivors, but it seems a great number of them have deserted.”
“Right...”
That was all Nobunaga murmured before he let out a deep, long sigh. The main force in the south had lost several thousand to the fires, as well as a large number of their rather valuable cannons. In stark contrast, they hadn’t been able to take anything from the enemy. This whole series of battles had been a set of brutal losses for Nobunaga. That wasn’t the end of his woes, however. Bad news tended to come in groups, after all.
“My Great Lord! The Second...!”
“Ah?! What’s happened to Ran?!” Nobunaga exclaimed in a panicked frenzy.
“H-His condition suddenly worsened... I-I’m told he just passed!”
“What?!”
Nobunaga stood there in shocked silence. The news hit him far harder than word of Vassarfall’s death. Despite his brilliant mind, Nobunaga hadn’t been able to understand what he had just been told. But as the realization dawned on him, his body began to tremble in rage.
“How can that be?!”
He grabbed the collar of his bodyguard and roared in anger. A wet stain appeared on the bodyguard’s trousers as an effect of the sheer intensity of Nobunaga’s rage. But if Nobunaga had noticed, he made no sign of it.
“I had been told he was stable. Was that a lie?!”
He lifted the bodyguard from the ground and held him aloft by his collar. It was a strength that was unbelievable for a man well past his sixtieth year.
“A-As I said, h-his condition suddenly deteriorated...”
“Gods damn you! You’re of no use to me! Call the healer! No, I’ll head there myself!”
Nobunaga roughly threw the bodyguard to the side and hurriedly stalked off to the tent Ran had been recuperating in. He then forcefully threw open the tent flap and barged inside.
“L-Lord Patriarch?!” a man who appeared to be the healer said with all of the color drained from his features. His body was also trembling. Nobunaga’s overflowing rage was just that intimidating.
“Why did you kill Ran?!” Nobunaga asked, his face practically contorted in anger.
“Kill?! N-No! I-I did my best, I did everything I could as I treated him!” the healer protested.
“I was told he was able to talk and that he was conscious! How does that lead to death?!” Nobunaga screamed in blind fury.
“I-It is common for those who suffer terrible burns to be fine for several days but then suddenly deteriorate and pass away...”
That was deeply rooted in fact. When the human body suffered widespread burns, the body quickly lost moisture through the burned tissue, causing dehydration, which made it easier for the body to go into shock. Furthermore, it was common enough for bacteria to infect the burned skin and cause sepsis. Therefore those who survived being badly burned often died of other conditions caused by the burns. Of course, Nobunaga himself had used fire as a weapon countless times and had others use it on him. He knew what the healer said was true. He knew that, but still...
“Silence!” he yelled.
With that, Nobunaga drew his sword from his hip and cut down the healer. Nobunaga was, in the end, only human. Even he couldn’t easily accept the death of a man he had valued as much as one of his own children. It was understandable that his rage was vented at the healer who had failed to save Ran.
“Urr—Urk...”
The healer collapsed as though he was curling into a ball. Nobunaga showed no sign of acknowledging the healer’s death, coolly walking past him to where Ran’s body lay, plopping down in front of the corpse.
Ran’s expression was calm and serene in death. He looked as though he was still alive. Nobunaga lightly placed his hand over Ran’s mouth. But there was no sign of breath. He couldn’t bring himself to believe it, and he placed his hand on Ran’s chest. But there was no pulse. Ran was, in fact, dead. By touching him, Nobunaga was forced to admit and accept that reality.
“You disloyal fool!”
Those were the first words out of Nobunaga’s mouth. They were not words that ought to have been directed to the dead. But he was the man who had thrown ashes at his own father’s mortuary tablet, demanding to know why he had died so early. Nobunaga’s state of mind was similar to what he had experienced then.
“I told you, didn’t I? You needed to live, whatever it took, so you could be there to support Homura.”
It had been just a few days ago that he had asked that favor of Ran. Ran was a man who always followed Nobunaga’s orders. He had followed even the smallest and most inconsequential of orders. He had never disobeyed Nobunaga in their long acquaintance. For him to disobey Nobunaga’s words twice in succession when it most mattered was something Nobunaga couldn’t forgive.
“Prig. Blockhead. Miser. Ninny. Halfwit. Simpleton. Fool. Yes, you’re a fool. You may have a sharp mind, but you’re still a fool. Idiot. Imbecile.”
He poured every insult he could think of on Ran. He continued for a while, and when he began to repeat the first insults...
“Please forgive me...” Nobunaga softly uttered an apology. His voice was filled with regret. “A part of me had realized I was wrong. I came to realize that the one who is right—the one who has justice on his side—is the Steel Clan lad.”
He was referring to the story of Yggdrasil sinking into the sea that Yuuto had told him at their conference at Stórk. At the time, he hadn’t believed it. It was dangerous for the head of a clan to take the words of the head of another clan at face value. But Suoh Yuuto had, in fact, moved his people—in the hundreds of thousands for that matter. No, perhaps even in their millions by now. Although Yuuto had conquered half of Yggdrasil, he was willing to let go of all of it. This either meant he was so mad that he couldn’t distinguish reality from his delusions, or that he truly believed that Yggdrasil was going to sink into the ocean.
Based on how he fought, Suoh Yuuto was clearly in control of his faculties, and he was able to clearly face reality. Bearing that in mind, there was only one answer. His words were the truth. As though to back his words, there had been frequent massive earthquakes across the continent.
“But even then, I couldn’t stop. For fifty years, I had dreamed of conquering the known world and put everything behind that effort. How could I stop now?” Nobunaga muttered.
A mere fifty years, but how long those fifty years were. While it may be an instant for gods and immortals, to a human, it was a lifetime. He couldn’t simply abandon the one thing he had spent that time pursuing, the thing he had given everything to achieve. How could he do so? It was in front of him, just waiting to be taken.
“No, I shouldn’t have let it faze me. When I can’t believe my path is righteous, I subconsciously relax my grip. I don’t step in as far as I should,” he continued.
Nobunaga himself hadn’t intentionally held back. He believed he had done all that he could to conquer Yggdrasil. But now that he thought back on his campaigns, he began to see where he had not been as ruthless as he could have been.
He had been fixated on winning with the mandate of heaven, to win in a fairly fought battle. He had spent four battles trying to win through conventional measures. It was true that a conqueror needed to do so in a creditable way, to maintain a certain reputation. That was true, but there was still more he could have done. Had he been himself, he believed he could have done so. The difference had been small, so small that he hadn’t realized it until now.
However, Nobunaga knew that tiny difference, the thinnest sliver, often made the difference in battle. He had seen those with great ability lose and fall because of their emotions, their hearts. Suoh Yuuto, though young, was a worthy opponent, a man who was equal to the powerful rivals Nobunaga had faced in his life. How could he defeat such an enemy while he was subconsciously holding back?
“I suppose I wanted that boy to stop me...” Nobunaga admitted to himself.
There was no way for him to stop himself. That wasn’t a choice available to him. But he was well aware that he was wrong. That was why he had subconsciously wanted that boy to take the full weight of his effort and break it. Yes, a part of him had wanted to fight a fair fight and lose. It would be a worthy way to die if he were to perish while doing everything in his power to achieve his dream. No wonder he couldn’t push through a victory—no wonder he lost this time. He had always been trying to lose.
“And the end result is this... I killed you. My sentimentality. My weakness. I can’t ask you to forgive me... I truly am sorry,” Nobunaga said and bowed his head deeply to Ran’s body. The words weren’t simply directed at Ran. They were also directed to Ran’s father, Mori Yoshinari. Despite having sworn to care for the orphaned children of the loyal retainer who had protected his back at the cost of his life, he had, in the end, ended up getting most of them killed young. There was no way he could face them if he went to the afterlife.
“‘I haven’t seen you conquer the world yet,’ huh?”
Those were the last words Nobunaga had heard from Ran. He could still clearly replay them in his mind.
“Is that what you desire? What your whole family desires?” Nobunaga asked. There was, of course, no reply. Now that he thought about it, the last words Yoshinari had sent Nobunaga were that he complete his conquests. Nobunaga never took what other people said at face value. People were quick to lie, and they often pretended whatever was most convenient to them on the surface. At the same time, he knew from experience that the things people say when cornered are what they truly believe. It hadn’t been flattery that had driven the two Mori men to tell Nobunaga to conquer the world. They had truly meant it.
“Then I shall make certain your wishes come true,” Nobunaga stated clearly.
Was he in the right? Would it be for the betterment of the people? It was because he had worried about such things that he made mistakes. No, at this point, those concerns didn’t matter. He could think about those things once everything was over. No, what he had to do was focus on the battle in front of him. After all, this was a battle to avenge them.
“Ran, I will avenge you.”
The figure that stood up was not a man, but a demon. The compassionate ruler who had affected countless reforms for the sake of the people and improved the lives of his subjects was no longer here. All that remained was a ruthless demon who was driven solely by vengeance. That, too, was one of Nobunaga’s faces.
To be continued...
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