Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria - Volume 21 - Chapter 5

ACT 5

“So this is the main hall...”

Even Nobunaga couldn’t help but be impressed and let out a sigh of admiration as he stood before the impressively looming main hall of the Valaskjálf Palace. Unlike the soaring multi-story castles of Japan, it was more of a horizontally sprawling building, but it was still a gigantic edifice, with everything from steps leading to the entrance, the entrance itself, the decorative columns, the doors, and the building itself built as though created for a race of giants. No doubt it was built this way to show off the power of the þjóðann to any visitors. Of course, Nobunaga wasn’t one to be swallowed by the building’s sheer scale, but he was still surprised by just how massive they’d made it.

“I had heard it was built two hundred years ago, but it’s still impressively clean.”

Despite having been struck by two great earthquakes, there were no visible signs of damage at first glance. Fittingly for the living quarters of the þjóðann, it was a solid work of construction. The gardens surrounding the main hall were also a sight to behold—the late autumn brought out a menagerie of bright reds and yellows that caught the eye. Leaves had fallen from the trees and danced in the breeze before they landed upon a carpet of red, orange, and yellow on the ground. It was a serenely beautiful sight.

“To have done all this—to bankrupt your dynasty and destroy the throne’s authority in a single reign—was surely both stupid and pointless,” Nobunaga said, letting out a faintly derisive snort. Judging by the elegance and scale of this sprawling palace complex, Wotan, the first þjóðann and founder of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire, must have wielded enormous power. However, by the time the second þjóðann had begun their reign, the þjóðann had already become a mere figurehead, wielding only ceremonial authority. That made Wotan’s efforts to unify the warring clans and bring them under a single banner ultimately useless.

“Something to bear in mind for myself,” Nobunaga said with a mildly self-deprecating chuckle. Hideyoshi had taken power from his own clan in Japan after his disappearance. He, perhaps, had no room to throw stones at other dynasts. “Creation was simple, but maintaining a reign is difficult, I suppose.”

What Nobunaga referred to was a lesson from the Annals of Zhenguan Politicians—a set of political treatises published during China’s Tang Dynasty. It conveyed the difficulty of protecting, growing, and maintaining a reign compared to simply starting a new dynasty. Nobunaga himself agreed wholeheartedly with that lesson. It was a sentiment that struck him as particularly salient now, as disease ravaged his body and the end of his life drew nearer. He constantly pondered how best to extinguish any potential political threats before passing on the reign to Homura. Part of the reason he had assigned Homura to lead the vanguard was to show her strength to as many soldiers as possible, while also allowing her to earn the necessary military achievements to cement her status as Nobunaga’s successor. Given that Yggdrasil put little value on bloodlines, it was the most effective way for him to secure her position.

“No, no, now is hardly the time to be thinking about this. It would be remarkably self-defeating to neglect the present while worrying about the future.”

Nobunaga chastised himself for letting his confidence in victory make him less wary. He knew that victory could slip from his fingers if he grew overconfident. The most important phase of any undertaking was completing it. What was most important right now was finding Suoh Yuuto and putting an end to him once and for all. Everything else would come after. With a renewed sense of purpose, Nobunaga led the main body of his army into the main palace hall.

The distant sounds of clashing blades and shouting echoed toward the throne room.

“Seems like the fighting’s started.”

As he listened to the battle taking place in the rooms beyond the wall, Yuuto closed his eyes and sank into a focused state. Thanks to the power of the twin runes Rífa had gifted him, he was able to sense the movements of people within the palace from this distance. However, as he was forcibly drawing the rune’s ability out despite the limiting powers of the Gleipnirs that held it in check, he couldn’t use it too freely. There was no point in holding it back for later though—he needed it now.

“Wha?!” Yuuto was struck speechless as he looked into the state of the room beyond. Although there had been thirty soldiers stationed there, over half of them had already fallen—and in less than a minute of fighting, no less. By all accounts, that should have been impossible. “Wh-What the hell is that?!”

He felt a presence that shot around the room in every possible direction like a bullet ricocheting off the walls. It would have made more sense to him if he were told that it was a monkey or some sort of predatory cat. There was only one person he knew that was capable of that sort of ludicrous movement.

“So, that’s Homura...” he said aloud to himself, both alarmed and frustrated by her presence. He had learned much about her from Hveðrungr’s report, but she was even more ridiculous than he had imagined. The soldiers in the room were slaughtered without being able to put up any resistance. In just a handful of minutes, the most elite soldiers of the Steel Clan Army were reduced to corpses bleeding out on the floor.

“Dammit! There’s always some twin-runed Einherjar showing up to wreck my plans!” He couldn’t help but grumble in response. The throne room of the Valaskjálf Palace was, as its name implied, where the þjóðann met with their subordinates or regional patriarchs. It was also connected to the þjóðann’s bed chambers. In wartime, any enemies making their way toward it were forced to go through five different rooms garrisoned with soldiers. Additionally, the entrances to those rooms were narrow, while the inside of each was perhaps the size of a school classroom, making it easy for the defenders to force any intruder to face off against superior odds. Yuuto had intended to make use of this design to continually exploit local numeric superiority to slow down their pursuers, but he was now forced to completely rethink his tactics. He couldn’t help but curse the rule-breaking nature that came with the presence of a twin-runed Einherjar.

“The men out there are doomed. They won’t be able to buy us any time whatsoever...” Yuuto stated, his concern clear in his tone. The Flame Clan vanguard had already entered the next room and was carrying out another one-sided massacre. Because the escape route required climbing down a ladder, there was a painfully hard limit on how quickly people could go down. It would take quite a bit more time for everyone present to escape. He did have one more card up his sleeve, but it wasn’t yet time to make use of it. But at this rate, it was clear they’d be caught before they were ready to make their escape.

“Big Brother, I’ll...!”

“Even you wouldn’t last more than a few seconds.”

Yuuto gritted his teeth. He had honestly underestimated Homura. He had believed that she was inferior to Steinþórr in combat ability, since the single-runed Hveðrungr had managed to outfight her. But that had been a massive misunderstanding on his part.

“Right now, under these circumstances, Homura might very well be stronger than Steinþórr,” Yuuto explained.

“Whaat?! S-Surely that can’t...”

“I’m afraid it’s true...”

She was extraordinarily fast, and she was capable of using walls and ceilings to make sudden and unpredictable movements. She was maneuvering in three dimensions. Soldiers who were trained to fight enemies on the ground had no way to deal with that. On top of that, her body was compact and hard to target. Even for Yuuto, the only reason he could follow her movements was that she was some distance away from him. If she had been in the same room, he was sure he would have lost track of her. In battle, speed was substantially more difficult to deal with than raw strength.

“Tch. Three rooms already?!”

It seemed that Homura was more focused on breaking through than wiping out all resistance. So far as Yuuto could tell, the young girl must have determined it was fine to leave any surviving Steel Clan soldiers to the Flame Clan forces that were following them. Ordinarily, a one-girl charge like this could be easily overwhelmed with pure numbers, but he couldn’t imagine beating her even if he had an infinite number of regular soldiers. The battlefield maxim that the side with more men determined the course of battle was completely useless against her.

“They’ve broken through again! They’re pushing in way too fast! I don’t even have time to come up with a new plan!”

Ordinarily, Yuuto was good at adapting to unexpected developments. Indeed, his mind tended to work best under pressure, and at times, even seemed to become sharper as the circumstances worsened. However, even he wasn’t able to think of a viable response to the events unfolding before him. It was at that moment that he heard a stir from behind him.

“What is it?!”

It seemed something had happened in the throne room. However, regardless of how impressive his rune’s capabilities were, he couldn’t literally see through walls. He imagined the worst-case scenario. Perhaps the rope ladder had snapped? Bad news did tend to come in waves, after all. He wanted to check what was happening as soon as possible, but before he could do anything, the doors in front of him were blasted off their hinges. In the now open doorway stood a petite, cute girl who must have been about ten years old. Her face and clothing had been dyed red—drenched with blood, it would turn out. That incongruent combination of features made her all the more frightening.

“So you must be Homura, Oda Nobunaga’s daughter...”

The moment he murmured those words, Homura turned in his direction and caught his gaze. Yuuto felt a cold shudder run up his spine.

“Suoh Yuuto, I fooound you!” Homura pointed her finger at Yuuto and smiled happily. It was an innocent, frightening smile, as though a child had found a new toy to break.

His first impression of Homura was, more than anything else, that she was quite small—only coming up to Yuuto’s chest if one were to stand him and her beside each other, so she was maybe a bit over a meter in height. On top of that, she was very slender. He was almost convinced he could’ve easily picked her up with one hand. Had she really been the one who had broken through the layers of defenses manned by the Steel Clan’s most elite soldiers? Her appearance was so delicate that the thought briefly crossed his mind. However, the thought was quickly wiped from his mind when she disappeared from view and blood sprayed all over the room.

“Don’t underestimate her just because she’s a child! Attack her together!”

Hearing Yuuto’s order, the soldiers in the room let out a roar and attacked Homura in unison. While they may not have been supernaturally gifted Einherjar, they were still the most elite of the Steel Clan Army. They were professional warriors. They instinctively grasped that even against a child, their only chance was to use their numbers to their advantage. They quickly made the right decision, attacking from all sides without the faintest hint of hesitation at the fact that they were targeting what appeared to be a young child. It was the right decision, but what unfolded next was beyond their expectations...

“Guh!”

“Urgh!”

“Agh!”

Despite their best efforts, they were torn down with ease.

“Phew.”

Homura jumped up, using one of the fallen Steel Clan soldiers as a springboard.

“Nrgh!”

“Ah!”

“Dammit!”

She bounced from head to head and quickly began approaching Yuuto. The soldiers tried their best to grab her or stab her with their swords, but by the time they reacted to her presence, the girl had already disappeared.

“And we’re done!” Homura breezily jumped over the wall of soldiers and lunged toward Yuuto.

“Look out!”

Felicia broke in between them and blocked Homura’s dagger. The reaction forced Homura to leap backward and land, where soldiers once again swarmed her in an attempt to take her down. Homura was much too quick for them, however. She shot forward like an arrow, leaving the soldiers’ attacks cutting through empty space.

“Ahhh!”

Felicia was thrown backward, overwhelmed by Homura’s superior strength and momentum when blocking her second attack.

“Huh, you’re pretty good, lady. Not used to seeing someone block my attacks more than once.”

Homura looked over at Felicia, impressed. A soldier attempted to attack her as she was busy looking in Felicia’s direction, but Homura crouched to avoid his swings, then swept her leg out, tripping the soldier over before stomping her foot against his head.

“Guh!”

The soldier twitched on the ground for several seconds before going still. Homura had brought her foot down hard enough that the brick under the soldier’s head had cracked. Even if he were still alive after that, he would almost certainly be suffering from a heavy concussion or worse. There was no way he was moving any time soon.

“P-Protect His Majesty!”

“Please fall back, Your Majesty!”

Two soldiers stood in front of Yuuto to protect him.

“Ack...!”

“No...!”

Although they attempted to put up a fight to defend their liege, they fell in the blink of an eye. These men were Yuuto’s royal guard. They weren’t weak by any stretch of the imagination. They were some of the most accomplished warriors in the clan. Despite that, they weren’t able to muster any form of resistance against Homura.

“Bye-bye!”

With a cheery farewell, Homura thrust her dagger toward Yuuto’s heart. Yuuto was unable to respond to the sheer speed of Homura’s attack. Was this the end? Yuuto reflexively closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable.

Even with eyes closed, the sharp clang of metal meeting metal was unmistakable. It seemed someone had managed to save him at the last moment. He let out a breath of relief and opened his eyes. As he did so, he froze. The back facing him was a familiar one. He saw the glint of silver hair flowing in front of him.

“Just in time, it seems.”

“Rún!”

The Mánagarmr, the Strongest Silver Wolf, had returned just when she was needed most.

“Rún, i-is it really you...?” Yuuto’s vision blurred with tears as he asked hopefully. He pinched his thigh to make certain he wasn’t dreaming. It hurt.

“You’re... You’re alive... You’re not a ghost...or spirit... Right?!” he asked with a trembling voice. He thought he would never see her again.

False information often spread across battlefields—it was a form of psychological warfare if harnessed properly, in fact. Up until this point, he hadn’t seen her body, which had made him want to hope she was still alive—that the news of her death was all a lie. Unfortunately, because the enemy had made such a scene of celebrating Sigrún’s death, the Múspell Unit had fled in retreat. When adding in the fact that there was no answer from her radio, he had to admit the chances of her still being alive at the time had been next to zero. Despite those odds, here she was, standing before him on her own two feet. She was alive, and he could see it for himself.

“I’m sorry to have caused you to worry. Let’s just say that rumors of my demise were somewhat exaggerated. I may not be in one piece, but I’m certainly alive,” Sigrún returned as she moved her sword to take up a battle stance against Homura, who had stopped in place, curiously looking at Sigrún as though examining her. Seemingly having seen what she’d needed to, Homura’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

“Your silver hair! Are you the Sigrún everyone’s talking about? The one who killed Shiba?” Homura asked excitedly.

“Yes, I am that Sigrún,” she replied.

“Huh! So you’re alive. The others said you’d been beaten,” Homura said happily, despite having just discovered a powerful enemy had survived. Like Steinþórr, she perhaps was looking for someone that could compete with her.

“They did unhorse me and knock me out when I landed. I suppose they won a fight of some sort by managing that much,” Sigrún answered with a serious expression. It was just like her to respond with a precise and honest appraisal of an enemy that had beaten her. That too drove home the point to Yuuto that it was really Sigrún.

“Imagine how much trouble you’d have been in if I hadn’t picked you up and run away,” Hildegard, Sigrún’s protégé, butted in, shrugging her shoulders with exasperation.

“Oh, now it all makes sense...” Yuuto said, voicing his thoughts aloud. Everything finally fell into place in Yuuto’s mind. The reason he hadn’t been able to reach Sigrún was that she had been unconscious. It was likely that the stir he had heard earlier was because the supposedly dead Sigrún had appeared from the hidden passageway alive and well.

“Well, now I’m starting to see a ray of hope,” he continued.

Things were still far from ideal, given that Sigrún’s dominant hand was injured, but she was both in name and truth the greatest warrior of the Steel Clan, having fought the twin-runed Steinþórr several times and even defeating Shiba, the Flame Clan’s greatest warrior. Hildegard, meanwhile, was one of the rising stars of the Múspell Unit who, in terms of raw physical ability, was even more gifted than Sigrún herself. While Felicia was a level below those two when it came to combat prowess, she had a large number of support abilities such as her galdrs. Additionally, she and Sigrún had known one another since they were young girls. They knew each other’s minds as though they were blood sisters, and the two were extremely good at fighting together. Homura, with her twin runes and overwhelming physical ability, was still an enormous threat, but with these three present, they now stood a chance.

“Everyone, buy me a little time! I have a plan! We’ve come this far! We’re all getting out of this alive!”

Yuuto shouted out encouragement and orders. He didn’t have any real combat skills of his own, which was why he had spent the last four years training whenever he had a free moment. Despite doing that, however, he hadn’t been able to become strong like any of the three women before him. It was frustrating. But there was no point in wishing for something he didn’t have in the middle of a crisis. All he could do now was what he was capable of doing under the circumstances. In the end, the one thing that he still had was his conniving brain.

Homura gazed intently at the silver-haired woman that had appeared in front of her. One of her twin runes controlled the energy of life. While she wasn’t able to control human beings, she was still able to feel the flow of life energy.

“Hmm... It looks like your right arm is hurt.”

The rest of Sigrún was flowing so brightly with ásmegin that it made Homura want to narrow her eyes, but the flow to her right arm was restricted—only a small trickle flowing into it.

“Yes. When I fought Shiba. A small price to pay for defeating a man like that, really,” Sigrún answered as she let her right arm hang limply at her side. Homura also noticed a fresh bruise around Sigrún’s elbow. Homura had heard Sigrún had fallen from her horse when fighting Arako and Gatu. She must have suffered that injury during that fight.

“That’s too bad. I would have wanted to fight you at full...strength!”

Seemingly done with talking, Homura relaxed her body and shot forward. It was a technique she had learned in her fight against the Maidens of the Waves. It reduced the amount of movement she had to make before attacking, leaving her opponents caught largely unaware when she suddenly bolted at them. When combined with Homura’s physical abilities that were rivaled only by the greatest of wild animals, opponents would often be left lying in a pool of blood without even realizing what had happened. It didn’t matter whether the opponent was a normal soldier or a seasoned Einherjar.

A sharp clang rang through the air as Sigrún easily blocked Homura’s lunge.

“Whew, I’m impressed.”

Homura smiled with amusement as the two locked blades. Sigrún hadn’t appeared to be surprised in the least and had blocked the attack without the slightest difficulty. That meant that she was able to handle Homura’s current movements. It explained why she was able to defeat Shiba.

“Still, it’d be more fun if you had both arms working.”

Homura pushed forward, tightening her arm muscles.

“Really?”

Sigrún’s blade suddenly went limp. Homura felt her upper body move forward as her momentum carried her.

“Yeah.”

Homura showed no sign of being caught off-balance, instead using the momentum to twirl in place, loosing a backhanded blow against Sigrún. She had already dealt with this technique when she fought Hvesomething. While she had been surprised the first time she saw it, now that she knew how it worked, it was easy enough to deal with.

“Ah.”

Sigrún drew her head backward at the last moment, and Homura’s fist just barely missed her nose. Homura blinked as the counter that had worked so well against Hvesomething failed against Sigrún.

“Huh, you really are strong,” Homura said.

“You too. But you should watch your surroundings a bit better,” Sigrún replied.

Homura jumped backward as she heard an object slice through the air. A whip harmlessly cracked against the floor a split-second later. She caught sight of a blonde woman with a whip out of the corner of her eye. Homura turned in slight irritation at her interruption, moving to deal with the blonde first when...

“Yah!”

Next came a slash from a red-haired girl. Homura blinked again at the attack. She was faster than anyone Homura had fought to this point. Of course, they were still no match for her. She casually deflected the blow with her dagger and then cut open the girl’s throat with her next slash...

...or so she had thought, but the redhead dodged the blade by a hair’s breadth and countered with another attack of her own. Homura easily avoided the attack again, then this time went for the girl’s heart. Once again, the blow was blocked, and the two began exchanging blows.

“Wooow!”

Homura blinked again, this time in actual surprise. There had certainly been opponents who had been able to exchange blows with her, but overall, they had been focused on defense, looking for the briefest opening for a counterattack. This was the first time she had ever encountered an opponent who could match her blow for blow. This red-haired girl was able to keep up with her insane speed.

“You’re good!”

Homura let out an exclamation of praise as they exchanged blows. Of course, in terms of simple physical ability, Homura, with her twin runes, was several tiers above the girl, but she was making up for that gap by reading Homura’s attacks and using the minimum necessary movement to respond. Homura was tempted to let out a sigh of admiration at the graceful movements.

“I’m still better though!”

Homura won the exchange of blows, first using brute strength to deflect the redhead’s sword, then using her left elbow as though to sweep her aside.

“Guh!”

Hildegard was sent flying off to the side. But that wasn’t only because of the impact of Homura’s blow. She had jumped at the last moment to soften the blow. Hildegard’s reflexes were impressive.

“You really are amazing, redhead! Tell me your name!” Homura asked as she felt excitement bubble up inside her. This was the first time anyone had held up so well against her in a straight-up fight. It was natural that the girl would pique her curiosity.

“The name’s Hildegard. Protégé of Sigrún, the commander of the Múspell Unit,” the redhead—Hildegard—answered as she shook her left arm. It seemed intact even after absorbing Homura’s attack. The sight made Homura even happier.

“Hildegard, huh? Say, Hildegard, why don’t you become my subordinate?” Homura asked.

“Wha?” Hildegard replied, appearing quite dumbfounded.

“If you will, I’ll ask daddy to spare your life. I’m gonna take over the Flame Clan from daddy eventually, after all! I’d be open to making you my number one subordinate,” Homura followed up with a stream of words, even as Hildegard stared blankly at her. This sort of self-centered thinking belied Homura’s childishness.

“Huh, that’s a pretty fair appraisal of me. You’ve got a good eye for talent.”

“Right? Right?! So, will you?”

Homura felt another surge of happiness upon hearing what Hildegard had to say. That’s just how much Homura had grown to like the girl in this brief exchange. They were pretty close in age too. Maybe they could be friends.

“Not a chance!” Hildegard said with a bright smile.

“Huh? Wh-Wha?! Why?!”

Having expected a different response, Homura was confused by Hildegard’s refusal. She had felt that the girl in front of her understood her on a fundamental level. That Hildegard would get it. She had been so sure of it!

“You’re the sort I hate more than anything! You’re just a brat who thinks that everything will go your way just because you’re strong!” Hildegard said with an expression of pure disgust. Homura was shocked and hurt by being so thoroughly rejected. She’d grown to like Hildegard so quickly and so easily. Why didn’t Hildegard feel the same way?!

“Heheh.”

“What is it, Mother Rún?”

“It’s because she reminds you of your old self, right?”

“Quiet, please!”

Hildegard scowled at Sigrún’s little jab. The exchange made them seem like they were close—almost like sisters even. Homura found it extraordinarily irritating.

“Fine... I get it. Then just die already!” Homura said coolly, readying her dagger. She’d thought she’d found a friend, but the rejection soured her affection into instant hate. If Hildegard wasn’t going to follow her, if she wasn’t going to listen to her, then there was no need for her in the world.

The battle between the group of Einherjar continued to grow in intensity. Hildegard continued to defend against the relentless attacks from Homura, even as she maintained her own counterattacks. It was an evenly matched exchange, but...

“Guh...”

As they exchanged blows, Homura began to gain the upper hand, and Hildegard let out a groan of pain.

“What the heck is her deal?! She’s so strong!” she couldn’t help but complain to herself.

Hildegard was confident in her own physical abilities. She was quite proud of being the most physically skilled in the Steel Clan. She was superior to Sigrún in that one regard, and while she wasn’t quite as fast as the speed-focused Erna or as strong as the strength-focused Hrönn, the difference was small, and in terms of her overall combat prowess, she was far better than both of them. She had honestly started to wonder if she was the most physically gifted individual in Yggdrasil. Right now, however, she found herself getting shoved around by a brat that was maybe all of ten years old.

“So this is what a twin-runed Einherjar is capable of, huh?”

She had heard from Sigrún just what a twin-runed Einherjar was like, but now that she was fighting one, it was even more ridiculous than she had expected. She might actually be in trouble... Just as she was thinking that, however, Sigrún interrupted with perfect timing and Hildegard had time to catch her breath. Hildegard immediately regained her footing and resumed her own attack, and the three became embroiled in an exchange of sword blows.

“Urrrmph!”

Confronted with the well-coordinated attack from the pair, even someone as powerful as Homura was forced on the defensive, and she let out a grunt of pain. Hildegard and Sigrún had fought and trained together for a long time. They had sparred nearly every day and were well acquainted with one another’s thought processes, movements, trends, habits, and quirks. They each had an intuitive grasp of how the other would move and how best to time their own movements in response. Two of the greatest warriors on Yggdrasil were attacking in unison. This wasn’t simply addition between the two of them. Their strength was practically multiplied by their cooperation. Even a twin-runed Einherjar wasn’t able to deal with it.

“Nrrrrgh... Huh?!”

Homura suddenly let out a yelp of surprise—she had been just a fraction of a second too slow in reacting. Hildegard immediately knew what had happened. It was Felicia’s galdr. Because her mentor Sigrún and Felicia were such close friends, she had seen Felicia’s galdrs up close.

“I can see why she’s His Majesty’s adjutant!”

Felicia’s timing had been perfect. In a battle between masters, the smallest delay could make all the difference.

“Hyah!”

“Yah!”

Hildegard and Sigrún let loose with their best attacks in unison. It was impossible to avoid or block them both—at least one of the strikes would connect. It should have ended things, but...

“Ah?!”

“Wha?!”

Homura suddenly appeared far in the distance—it was almost as though she had teleported away.

“She... She wasn’t showing her full strength yet?!” Hildegard murmured as a shiver ran up her spine. Homura’s movement just now was much faster than it had been earlier. Even Hildegard had barely been able to follow her.

“No, that’s not it... She was in the Realm of Godspeed,” Sigrún explained calmly.

“Whaat?! Isn’t that your...?!”

Since it was something that was only used in times of absolute need, Hildegard had yet to see it for herself, but it was Sigrún’s ace in the hole—a state where Sigrún’s perception of time slowed and her physical abilities shot up.

“Yup. That’s what Hvesomething called it,” Homura replied, smiling as her dagger whirled in a slash in midair. It was much faster and sharper than it had been earlier.

“You spoke with him?! What did you do to my big brother?!” Felicia suddenly shouted with a sharp look. Hildegard tilted her head in confusion for a moment. When Homura said “Hvesomething,” she was probably referring to the former Panther Clan patriarch Hveðrungr. It was true that he and Felicia were Chalice siblings through Yuuto, but she could have sworn Felicia was the elder of the two.

“Don’t get distracted, Hilda! Focus on the fight!”

“O-Oh! Yes ma’am!”

Hildegard threw aside her previous question at Sigrún’s order. She was totally right—this wasn’t an opponent they could beat if she wasn’t giving this fight her full attention.

“Oh? Are you his little sister? I’m sorry, I killed him,” Homura replied and stuck out her tongue apologetically, as though she had just confessed to a little prank.

“N-No way... I-I’ll make you pay!” Felicia lashed out with her whip in anger. Of course, there was no way such an attack would actually hit Homura in her current state. She dodged it without the slightest trouble and closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

“I’ll send you to where Hvesomething is so you’re not lonely.”

With that, Homura loosed her dagger at Felicia’s chest. Felicia hadn’t been able to respond at all. Thankfully, a sharp clang rang out as the deadly blade was intercepted at the last moment.

“That’s an unwanted kindness,” Sigrún said in a cold, low tone, her voice filled with hostility. Sigrún had just moved much faster than Hildegard had ever seen her move. She must have entered the Realm of Godspeed as well. All to protect her best friend.

“Stay back!”

Hildegard immediately tried to intervene as well, but a harsh order stopped her in her tracks. She hurriedly stopped in place.

“Without Godspeed, you’ll be utterly outmatched. Stay back!”

“B-But...”

Hildegard couldn’t help but hesitate. If Sigrún had been fully healthy, Hildegard would have obeyed and trusted that her mentor would win. But as things stood, Sigrún wasn’t able to use her dominant hand. On top of that, she had pushed herself by making use of the Realm of Godspeed extensively in the recent battle. Ordinarily, that should have caused enough fatigue and pain to incapacitate Sigrún. She was only pushing back that pain through sheer force of will. There was no way she could maintain this usage of Godspeed for an extended period.

“I-I’ll...”

Just as Hildegard was about to say she was going to help, Sigrún let out a grunt of pain. It seemed she had somehow blocked Homura’s dagger with her sword, but Homura’s left fist was planted squarely in Sigrún’s flank. Sigrún sank to her knees in pain.

“Huh, that’s amazing. You managed to react even when I’m in this state. I wish I could’ve fought you when you weren’t hurt.”

A mixture of both impressed and disappointed, Homura arrogantly gazed down at Sigrún and raised her dagger. Hildegard watched on in horror.

“Mother Rún is going to die...” Just as the thought crossed her mind, Hildegard’s awareness cut off entirely—and the beast that had slumbered deep inside her woke.

Homura’s cold voice came down toward Sigrún. “Huh, that’s amazing. You managed to react even when I’m in this state. I wish I could’ve fought you when you weren’t hurt.”

She knew she was in danger. She had to move, but she couldn’t even catch her breath.

“Father... I’m sorry.”

Sigrún steeled herself for her death.

Suddenly, a red shadow pounced upon Homura.

“H-Hilda?!”

For a moment, Sigrún wasn’t sure what she was seeing. Hildegard snarled ferociously as she leaped at Homura, ásmegin flowing from her like a torrent.

“Wh-Whoa!”

Homura hurriedly blocked Hildegard’s slash, but the sheer strength and momentum behind the attack forced her to lose her footing. Hildegard followed up without a moment’s delay, and the pair began an intense exchange of blows.

“R-Rún. Are you okay?” Felicia ran over with a look of concern.

“Yeah... Somehow.”

She took Felicia’s offered hand and somehow managed to stand up. Her flank still ached, and she found her sluggish body extremely irritating.

“That’s the thing she showed over a year ago the first time she fought you, right?”

“Yeah, but we need to stop her.”

“Huh?! Why?! She’s holding her own against Homura!” Felicia said with surprise as Sigrún casually noted that Hildegard needed to snap out of it.

Yes, when Hildegard was in that state, she had massively increased physical abilities. In terms of pure speed, she was probably even faster than Sigrún in the Realm of Godspeed. But it also had a deadly flaw.

“She’s no different than a beast right now. She’s completely lost her ability to think. She can’t distinguish between friend and foe. This isn’t an opponent she can win against in that state...” Sigrún explained.

“She’s winning though. She also did it specifically to defend you,” Felicia replied.

“...True enough.”

Sigrún furrowed her brow at Felicia’s observation and watched Hildegard’s movements closely. She saw it almost at once.

“Graceful and without any unnecessary movement...” Sigrún blinked as she watched Hildegard. If anything, Hildegard’s movements were more refined than when she was conscious. Frankly, she would have liked to show the Múspells as an example of perfect form. Sigrún let out a chuckle. “Just how much did she practice, even as she pretended to slack off?”

Hildegard must have traced Sigrún’s movements and forms over the course of their uncountable sparring sessions until she had basically imprinted those movements on her unconscious self. That was the only thing Sigrún could believe would have made this possible. In fact, Hildegard hadn’t just copied her. She had adjusted and assimilated those movements as her own. She had arranged each form, each stroke, to better suit her own body shape and strength.

“You finally found your own blade, didn’t you, Hilda?”

Even though Sigrún knew this was hardly the time to be indulging in sentiment, Sigrún felt a warm surge of pride as she watched Hildegard fight. When she was conscious, Hildegard tended to have too many things distracting her from her fighting—her pride, her anxiety about proving herself, her desire to gain favor—making her movements sloppier and less refined. However, now that she was a berserk beast, driven only by her fighting instinct, all of those distractions had gone away. Silly girl. If only she’d just be herself, she would be this strong all on her own.

“Graaaaah!”

“Yaaaaah!”

The fight between the two continued to speed up. Homura, with her twin runes, still had a slight advantage in speed and strength, but Hildegard had bridged that gap with her accumulated technique. They were completely evenly matched.

“Grah?!”

“Guh!”

The moment their weapons clashed, both blades flew out of their hands. The clash of their superhuman destructive power had overwhelmed the strength of their grip. Ordinarily, the first reaction would be to recover one’s weapon. But caught up in the heat of the moment, neither of them did so. Instead, following their combat instincts, they attacked one another with their bare hands, unleashing punches at one another. Homura’s fist clipped Hildegard’s jaw and cut through the air, while Hildegard’s right fist landed squarely into Homura’s left cheek. The blows had landed almost simultaneously, but Hildegard had won the exchange. Homura’s body was slammed sidelong into the ground. Sigrún gripped her hand into a fist and let out a cheer.

“Well done, Hilda.”

Just as Sigrún was offering her words of praise, Hildegard collapsed as her knees buckled from under her. As though in exchange, the black-haired girl stood up at the same time.

“Owww. Huh? I only grazed her. Why’s she down?”

Homura blinked in surprise as blood ran down her nose. It seemed the victor herself was the most confused. Meanwhile, Hildegard’s eyes had rolled back into her head, and she was completely unconscious.

Sigrún had no way of knowing, but the extremely fast glancing blow on Hildegard’s jaw had rattled her brain, giving her a concussion. Of course, Homura hadn’t meant to do that, so it was a complete coincidence born of Hildegard dodging her blow, and Hildegard, who had landed a full blow on Homura, technically had won that exchange. But, of course, in a fight, luck often played its part. It was simply poor fortune on Hildegard’s part that Homura had gotten in a lucky blow.

“Well, I dunno what happened, but I guess I win this fight, right? You were really strong though, Hildegard. I guess I really am a good judge of talent. I didn’t think there was anyone who could fight me on equal terms.” Homura nodded contentedly, then after a moment’s thought, continued speaking. “It’d be a shame to kill her. I guess I’ll leave Hildegard alive for now,” Homura said as she pointed her index finger at Hildegard. It was an almost perfect example of the common trope that suggested a fistfight could bring people closer together. It seemed Homura had found both a worthy rival and a friend through that fight. Sigrún was grateful that Hildegard’s life was safe, however...

“You two have to die though. Daddy was clear. I need to bring him Suoh Yuuto’s head,” she said bluntly.

The question was how to stop this monster. The combination of nonstop fighting and her overuse of Godspeed meant Sigrún was near the very limit of her endurance. Felicia was unharmed, but with her ability, she might last all of five seconds. They were out of options.

“Hah. You think it’ll go that easily?”

But there was one person who hadn’t given up. A black-haired young man curled his lips into a cocky grin.

“Don’t put up a front. You have a similar aura to daddy, but your strength’s not that great. Bluffing doesn’t work on me,” Homura said and snorted derisively. It was true that under the circumstances, it seemed like a bluff. Sigrún, however, knew what he was up to. The grin on his face was a dead giveaway. Yuuto would only grin that way if he had a clearly charted course to victory.

“You’ll know soon if I’m bluffing or not. Ah, there it is.”

The sound of explosions rumbled around them. Soon after, the ground began to tremble, a thunderous roar of falling stone filling the air, as though heralding the very end of the world.

“How odd...”

Nobunaga furrowed his brow as he made his way through the hallways of the main palace hall. His forces had advanced smoothly, facing little resistance as they pushed into the palace. So far as Nobunaga could tell, it didn’t seem like they were walking into a trap either.

The vast majority of the Steel Clan’s soldiers had lost contact with their chain of command and had fled. The Flame Clan Army had captured a few of the soldiers who had failed to get away, but they had all been completely demoralized by their army’s defeat. That much was clear from their expressions.

The Flame Clan had heard that around three thousand Steel Clan troops had managed to escape into the palace, but with the state of the Steel Clan Army’s morale, those men likely wouldn’t end up being much of an obstacle. What this meant was that there weren’t going to be any dangerous ambushes awaiting them. All of the signs pointed to a Flame Clan victory. And yet, something was really bothering Nobunaga. The farther he penetrated into the main palace, the stronger that feeling grew. “Not like I can stop now though...” he muttered to himself.

He had driven Yuuto into a corner, and he only needed one more move to finish him off. It would be one thing to hesitate if he was certain there was a trap waiting for him, but an unsettling feeling was not sufficient reason to retreat. But it was that thought that made him pause.

“There’s no choice? There’s no way I could retreat?” Nobunaga murmured in shock. He was starting to wonder if Yuuto was leading his thoughts in a specific direction. “No, no... Surely this is all unnecessary worry,” he continued in an effort to reassure himself. Nobunaga shook his head from side to side. It wasn’t possible. There was no way that was what was happening here. Although his rational mind told him this, he couldn’t shake the uneasiness he felt. If anything, that feeling was only growing stronger. “Should I pull back and see what happens? No, if I do...”

It was just as he was weighing the thought in his mind that the thunderclap of explosions rang out from all sides. For a moment, he thought that combat had started in various parts of the palace. Unfortunately for him, the true meaning of those sounds was far worse. He heard a rumbling as though the very earth was giving way beneath him.

“Tch! It’s a trap! Retreat! Retreat!” Nobunaga clicked his tongue in annoyance, then barked out his orders as he ran toward the exit. Much to his chagrin, they were already quite deep into the main palace hall. Would they make it out in time? The walls and ceiling began to groan and shudder. The ceiling, the wall, and the pillars all began to lean inward.

“Tch. We’re not gonna make it!” he spat. The building around him swayed and then started to collapse in toward him. There was no way for him to avoid it... The heavy thuds of stone falling onto the ground shook the surrounding area. The Valaskjálf Palace—the symbol of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire with over two hundred years of history and tradition—met its end, collapsing into a gargantuan heap of rubble.

“Phew. Looks like we’re still alive,” Yuuto said, letting out a long sigh of relief as the tremors began to subside. He had reinforced the throne room and the garrison room ceilings and walls with Roman concrete in preparation for this scheme. Even so, it had been a gamble on whether or not they could bear that impact even with that help. In fact, despite their reinforcement, the walls had formed cracks as a result of bearing the bulk of the impact.

“S-Suoh Yuuto! Wh-Wh-What have you done?!” Homura shouted with a tense expression. Even she seemed anxious after hearing the cacophony that had echoed through the room. Yuuto curled his lips into a malicious smile.

“I brought down this entire palace over our heads,” he explained.

The Valaskjálf Palace itself had actually sustained serious damage from the two major earthquakes, and it had barely been left standing in the aftermath. In a stroke of magnificent foresight, Yuuto had decided to identify the major structural supports and have them stuffed full of gunpowder, then set them up with matchlocks as fuses. He had ordered the Vindálfs to ignite the fuses as the Flame Clan Army’s main body entered the main hall, timing it so the demolition charges would go off right as the Flame Clan troops approached the heart of the palace.

While Nobunaga was an extremely cautious and cunning strategist, when it came to actual battle, he often preferred to lead from the front. There were plenty of tales of how he had cut down many an enemy with his own hand. He had likely done so because he knew that, for the soldiers, seeing their lord fight alongside them would motivate them more than anything else. Yuuto knew that in this most vital of battles, where the fate of Yggdrasil itself hung in the balance, Nobunaga wouldn’t be able to resist leading the main body into the palace himself. With that conviction in mind, Yuuto had prepared this final trap for him.

Yuuto was a man who never let failure go to waste. He always prepared a second or even third backup plan in case things didn’t work out. This last plan, the destruction of the Valaskjálf Palace itself, was the ace in the hole he had prepared, a final gamble to turn things around if he had lost the decisive battle.

“Your precious daddy was in the main hall, wasn’t he? He’s probably buried under rubble by now. If you don’t hurry up and help him...” Yuuto said to Homura with a menacingly evil tone in his voice. Homura dashed off like a hare before Yuuto could even finish his sentence. He also sensed that the enemy soldiers in the garrison rooms in front of him had also made a hasty withdrawal. Homura, their commander, had retreated. It stood to reason they’d follow.

After confirming the Flame Clan Army had departed, Yuuto crumpled to the ground and let out a slow breath. He had known from Kristina’s reports that Homura was extremely attached to her father. Given the sheer scale of the noise and explosions, he had hoped Homura would dart out to save her father if he phrased it that way. Of course, if she had attacked trying to avenge her father, Yuuto and the others had little left in the way of reserves, and she would have easily wiped them out. That, or if the explosions had been just a little stronger, they could just as easily have been crushed to death. It was a bluff that had just barely paid off in the end.

“Listen up! Let’s use this opportunity to get out of here. Lend the injured a hand,” Yuuto shouted to those present. There was no way to tell when Homura and her forces would return, and there was certainly no reason to stay put in this ruin. This was the best chance they had to escape.

“Sheesh... While I’m glad it worked out, I never want to play things that close to the wire ever again,” Yuuto said, letting out a loud sigh as he faced the throne. If he were being frank, he had felt on edge ever since they’d started their retreat. This was the kind of scheme that was only likely to succeed maybe one in ten times. There were many things that could have gone wrong—for example, he might not actually have managed to get Homura to leave, or the throne room might not have survived the demolition of the main hall. He was honestly impressed he’d gone all in on that ten percent chance and pulled through.

“Yes, indeed. Honestly, I doubted what I was hearing when you first explained the plan,” Felicia responded, chuckling with a forced smile as she shrugged her shoulders. She must have been thinking back to when Yuuto had first explained his crazy scheme. Yuuto himself joined in on the dry laugh. Thinking back on it, it had been quite a scene—he’d even had everyone at the war council meeting wondering if he’d gone mad.

The meeting had taken place the night before the decisive battle. Yuuto had gathered his most senior generals, and they had gone over contingency planning.

“We’re going to purposefully lose and lure the enemy into the palace?!” Fagrahvél’s cry of surprise rang through the throne room. Yuuto hurriedly clasped his hands over her mouth.

“Hey! Don’t say that out loud! This is the most classified, top secret piece of information I’ve got.”

“Oh... M-My apologies,” Fagrahvél immediately came to her senses and she mumbled out words of apology. Yuuto judged that it was safe to let her speak and uncovered her mouth.

“Fagrahvél, you would do well to remember that silence is the most important part of scheming.”

“Yes... I-I have no excuse, Your Majesty...”

“So long as you understand, it’s fine. Please be careful though.”

Yuuto placed his index finger over his lips to drive home that point. While he had already made sure to clear the rooms around the throne room beforehand, he still didn’t want to risk anything leaking from their meeting. There was no way they could afford to have the soldiers learn about this plan.

“Also, let me correct that. We’re not going to lose on purpose. We’re going to throw everything we have at this battle and make an earnest attempt to win it, but if we do end up losing, we’ll switch over to this plan. If I’m honest, though, I don’t have a good feeling about our chances,” Yuuto explained and laughed humorlessly. They had somehow managed to hold the Flame Clan’s forces at bay until now, but the difference in numbers was quickly becoming far too extreme. It also didn’t help that the enemy was led by the Oda Nobunaga. Yuuto knew that it was impossible to keep salvaging wins or draws. He felt like he was playing Russian roulette with a six shot revolver that was loaded with five bullets.

“With that in mind, we may as well make the best of it. If we’re going to lose, then we’ll at least get everything we can out of it,” Yuuto continued.

“So, it’s something similar to the feigned retreat we used against the Lightning Clan, then,” Felicia said as she drew the connection in her mind. The other generals who had been with him since the Wolf Clan days also nodded in agreement.

Feigned retreats typically involved dividing the army into three parts—one part clashing head-on with the enemy force, then feigning a retreat to lead the newly invigorated enemy pursuers into an ambush made up of the two remaining parts who had been lying in wait. It was a tactic that the Shimazu Clan of Kyushu had used to great effect during the Warring States Period, allowing them to defeat enemy armies far larger than their own. This particular plan was a variant of that tactic.

“I see. I did not know there was such a tactic... But even so...” Once she had learned the details, Fagrahvél had been impressed, but she still seemed to have difficulty understanding it. Perhaps to her, a woman of the 15th century BCE, it was a bit too advanced. In her mind, it probably sounded like something that came from myth. She may not have been entirely wrong, since its successful execution relied upon a combination of extremely charismatic commanders and finely drilled professional soldiers—something that was much harder to come by in these times of simpler military training.

“In that case, is there a need to fight with the intention to win? If we withdraw after a certain amount of fighting, it would reduce the losses among our forces,” Fagrahvél asked. By all accounts, her question made perfect sense. In fact, it seemed an extremely rational suggestion at first glance. Yuuto might even have agreed with her observation had their opponent not been Oda Nobunaga.

“No. Nobunaga will probably see through that. No ordinary feigned retreat is going to work on him,” Yuuto explained. He was practically convinced of that fact. Nobunaga was extremely sensitive to danger. Not only had history testified to his keen nose for traps, but Yuuto had also experienced it firsthand after facing him several times in battle. Then there was the fire trap he had set against Nobunaga during the recent Battle of Glaðsheimr. Anything less than a perfectly executed feigned retreat would probably make Nobunaga suspect that something was up.

“The vital element of this plan is to make the enemy believe our frontal force is the entirety of our remaining main force. If we succeed in doing that—if we throw what he believes is everything at his forces and still lose—even Nobunaga wouldn’t suspect that he’s being led into a trap,” he clarified.

“I see... However, it would be quite a dangerous gamble,” Fagrahvél replied.

“I know full well,” Yuuto stated flatly as he gripped his hand into a fist hard enough to almost draw blood from his palm. This was a plan that was going to produce a large number of casualties no matter how it worked out in the end. No matter what anyone wanted to believe, an organized retreat wouldn’t be able to draw the Flame Clan’s forces into the trap—and if he failed to draw them in, then the Steel Clan’s casualties would only be even greater. He needed to throw away concerns about the ethics of what he was about to do—to sacrifice the few for the sake of the many, no matter what reservations he held about doing so.

“And, once you’ve drawn the enemy into the palace, what then, Your Majesty?” Fagrahvél asked.

“I’m going to bring the Valaskjálf Palace down on their heads,” Yuuto replied frankly. This prompted a shocked stare from Fagrahvél and all of the other assembled generals.

“So, where am I now...?” Nobunaga slowly opened his eyes and said with a self-deprecating tone. In front of him lay only complete darkness, and he couldn’t move his body in the slightest. In this state, he had no way of telling if he was still in the mortal realm or the afterlife.

“Ah, it seems I’m still alive for the moment,” he mumbled to himself. Perhaps only a small consolation under the circumstances, but his right hand was close to his chest, and he could feel the beating of his heart. Nobunaga let out a soft sigh of relief. Judging by what he could observe, he deduced that he was probably buried under rubble. He felt a heavy weight pressing down upon his body, and despite his best efforts, it wouldn’t budge from atop him. A fair amount of that weight bore down on his chest, and he found it somewhat difficult to breathe. On top of that, other things seemed to be going on...

“Aaaghhhh!”

“The leaves have caught fire!”

“Blast! Over here too! Put it out! Put it out!”

“The fire’s spreading too quickly! It’s surrounding us...”

He heard the panicked voices of various Flame Clan troops from beyond the rubble. It was an added blow after what he had just suffered. They were probably the soldiers that had come in from the rear as reinforcements. He wanted to tell them to hurry up and dig him out, but it seemed they were a bit caught up with their own problems at the moment. Even Nobunaga had to click his tongue and curse his situation. “Tch! The lad went through all that trouble just to spring this on me, huh?”

It was at this moment that Nobunaga understood the full extent of Yuuto’s plan. However, even as he lay buried under the rubble of the Valaskjálf Palace, there was still a part of him that was dumbfounded by the trap he’d found himself caught in. The idea of demolishing the palace and setting fire to the gardens was quite a mad scheme, but what was even more daunting to consider was that the entire hard-fought and hard-won battle itself had been bait meant to lure him in.

The land around the main palace hall was filled with beautiful gardens that were packed full of trees, and the ground was completely carpeted by layers of fallen leaves. It hadn’t rained in several days, so those leaves were bone dry, making them ideally suited as kindling for the huge blaze Yuuto required. Had the battle against the Steel Clan Army been a mere skirmish, Nobunaga would have proceeded more cautiously, instead slowly making his way into the Valaskjálf Palace. Yuuto had used an actual, full-fledged retreat, making sure his army was actually scattering in disarray, to make sure Nobunaga would aggressively pursue him.

“Even if it was meant to force me to let down my guard...this is going to some radical lengths,” Nobunaga remarked.

It had meant taking extreme risks in the name of drawing Nobunaga into the palace. One wrong step and the entire Steel Clan Army would have been destroyed. It was so ridiculous, so dangerous, that Nobunaga could only describe it as the work of a mad genius.

“Hello! Is there no one out there?!” Nobunaga squeezed every bit of noise he could emit from his throat. He needed to get out of here quickly and restore order, or things would quickly get out of hand. No, even before that, there was a chance he’d be buried alive and die beneath this rubble.

“I’m here! Come dig me out!” he shouted again, but there was no response. Based on the sounds he heard from the soldiers, they were a fair distance away. It was clear to Nobunaga that his voice wasn’t reaching them. If he spent too much energy calling out for them, he might not be able to shout when he truly needed to. Nobunaga gripped his hand tightly into a fist as he fought off the fear that he’d end up dying beneath this rubble. How long would it take for that to happen? How long had he been buried here?

“Daddy!”

He heard the voice of his beloved daughter from above.

“Ah, Homura!”

“Daddy! I’m so glad you’re alive! I’m going to get you out right away!”

He heard a tearful voice of happiness before the sound of heavy boulders being thrown to the ground echoed down from above. At the same time, he felt the burden on his body lighten. Homura must have been throwing the rubble aside. He still found her sheer strength surprising.

“Ahh. Fresh air at last... Well, not quite, but it’s much better than being trapped under all that rubble.”

Once he was freed, Nobunaga stretched, taking in the open air with some relief. He felt a warm wind and the sound of fire crackling around him.

“Alas, he got me on this one,” he grumbled, furrowing his brow ruefully as he gazed around him. There was little that remained of the imposing palace, and the only thing that surrounded him was a mountain of debris. The ten thousand soldiers that had entered the palace with him were also probably buried beneath the rubble. Like Nobunaga, there were probably others who were still alive, but it was much more likely that very many had already succumbed, and those who hadn’t were probably so badly injured that they couldn’t move. It was a painful blow to his army. To top it all off, the blazing fire around the palace grounds had thrown most of the remaining able-bodied soldiers into a panic.

“Now, what to do...?”

Just as Nobunaga settled down to think, a drop of water fell upon his cheek. He quickly gazed up at the sky and grinned. “Hah! Well, it seems the heavens want to keep me alive.”

There had been several times in his life when rain had saved him from a desperate situation, starting with the Battle of Okehazama. The same was true this time. The fire and the confusion among the soldiers were both quickly doused by the rain.

“My Great Lord! So good to see you alive!”

Better late than never, the general in charge of the reinforcements hurried over, tears in his eyes as he confirmed Nobunaga’s survival.

“Yes. Even I feared I’d die this time,” Nobunaga replied.

“Yes. Your survival, I believe, is down to your divine luck, My Great Lord.”

“It seems I’m blessed with luck of one sort or another. Given that I’ve survived, I suppose it’s time we repaid them for our pains. You lot! There! Search there!” Nobunaga ordered as he pointed to the only part of the palace that had any semblance of its old form intact. For some reason, it had survived despite the rest of the building having completely collapsed. There was, of course, the possibility it had just survived by chance, but Nobunaga was convinced there was intent behind it.

“I was in there with them until just now!” Homura explained excitedly.

“I see. Well, you heard her,” Nobunaga said to his general.

“Certainly, My Great Lord. We’ll go and check it out!” the general replied. He took his soldiers and charged into the remains of the palace. However, he returned a while later with a downcast expression. “M-My apologies. There wasn’t a soul inside.”

“That can’t be true! They were there until a few minutes ago! Suoh Yuuto was right there!” Homura let out a cry of surprise at the report. However, Nobunaga’s expression lit up with a feral grin.

“Ah, so he’s survived. Good.”

If anything, the news had made him happy. Yuuto had beaten him or frustrated him countless times. Nobunaga wanted to get his revenge.

“There’s an escape path! There must be one! Find it!”

“Y-Yes, My Lord!”

The general quickly returned to the ruins at the behest of Nobunaga’s thunderously bellowed orders. As he watched him leave, Nobunaga then gestured to call over nearby soldiers. “Send messengers to the Eastern and Western Armies and tell them to keep a lookout for Suoh Yuuto! I don’t care what it takes! Find him and bring him before me!”

Nobunaga couldn’t imagine that even someone like Suoh Yuuto had any more schemes up his sleeve. His soldiers had mostly been scattered, and he only had a handful of troops left. By contrast, Nobunaga still had twenty thousand men he had left out of the main body and another twenty thousand in each of the Eastern and Western armies. While he might have suffered a tactical defeat as a general, Nobunaga was now almost assured a strategic victory. In the Chu-Han War of ancient China, Xiang Yu had defeated Liu Bang in ninety-nine battles but had lost the war after just a single defeat. Meanwhile, Liu Bang, who had established the Han Dynasty, had conquered the empire even after losing ninety-nine battles to Liu Bang by winning the one, decisive battle. Nobunaga had no interest in being Xiang Yu; he had no interest in winning individual battles. What Nobunaga wanted was to conquer the known world. What mattered to him was to be like Liu Bang, to be the one to savor the sweet taste of victory at the very end.

“I’m gonna go look too! I learned his ásmegin! I’ll find him just like that,” Homura stated proudly.

“How reassuring to hear.”

“I’ll be right back, daddy! Oookay. Here I...huh?”

Just as she tried to start running, Homura’s knees gave out from under her, and she fell to all fours. Her arms also were unable to keep her up, and her cheek sloppily kissed the ground.

“Ack... Huh... Weird... I can’t...move... I’m so...hungry...” Homura’s stomach rumbled loudly as she lethargically whined on the ground.

“Ah... Don’t scare me like that. I truly thought you might have been injured,” Nobunaga said, letting out a long breath of relief. Something like this was completely predictable. Homura had been fighting almost continuously over the entire battle. Additionally, Nobunaga had no way of knowing, but Homura had entered the Realm of Godspeed, a mental technique that burned both ásmegin and stamina like paper, three times: against Hveðrungr, against Sigrún, Hildegard, and Felicia, and finally in order to clear the rubble over Nobunaga. She may have been a twin-runed Einherjar, but she was still only ten years old. Even her stamina had reached its limit.

“Here, give me your hand...”

Just as Nobunaga reached over to help Homura up, he caught sight of a masked man aiming an arquebus from a distance out of the corner of his eye. His body moved before his mind fully registered what was happening. Nobunaga immediately draped his body over his daughter, as though to protect her. A shot rang out, coldly and ruthlessly uncaring of the father’s love for his daughter and his instinctive need to protect her.

Hveðrungr, the masked man, tossed aside his arquebus. He would have liked to follow up with additional shots, but the soldiers were already forming a protective cordon around his targets. There was no chance that he could hit them from here.

“Tch. I suppose I always leave myself exposed in the end,” Hveðrungr muttered, clicking his tongue in irritation and letting out a long sigh. He had been aiming for Homura but had ended up hitting a different target. Of course, the result was a massive achievement in and of itself, but Hveðrungr’s focus had entirely been on avenging his humiliation by Homura. He had failed in his own objective, regardless of whatever else he might have accomplished in the process.

“Perhaps Felicia is right, and I’m fated to be that way.”

“Stop babbling and start moving. The enemy looks like they’ve noticed us,” his wife Sigyn said to him with a note of exasperation, urging him to cut short his moment of reflection. He had wanted to spend some time in quiet contemplation, but she seemed to be in a hurry.

“Here, give me your arm.”

“Thanks.”

Hveðrungr stood with Sigyn’s help. The wound Homura had inflicted on his right leg was deep, and he had trouble walking on it.

“So, when’d you become such an honorable and loyal man? I mean, staying behind to take a shot at the enemy commander?” Sigyn asked teasingly.

Hveðrungr furrowed his brow in displeasure. It made the hair on his body stand on end to think that he was expressing any loyalty to that damned brat. There was no way this was in any way an expression of loyalty. “I don’t know what it is you’re going on about, but I was simply here for revenge. I can’t very well let a ten-year-old girl get the better of me, even if she is twin-runed,” Hveðrungr replied, snorting with irritation. One of his core principles was to avenge himself against anyone that humiliated him, no matter what dirty and underhanded methods it required.

“Okay, sure, we can pretend that’s what this is about.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“You’re one of the greatest liars of the past thousand years. Only an idiot would take anything you say at face value.”

“Tch.”

Hveðrungr clicked his tongue in annoyance. He always found her faint air of superiority, as though she was seeing right through him, to be annoying. And yet, despite that, she was the reason why he was still alive. When Hveðrungr had been stabbed in the thigh by Homura and had dropped his trusted sword, even he had given up hope of survival. It was at that very moment that Sigyn had saved his life with a seiðr. She was an Einherjar with the rune of Svaðilfari, the Unlucky Traveler, and was considered one of the greatest seiðr wielders in all of Yggdrasil—known widely as the Witch of Miðgarðr. While she was able to use a wide range of seiðrs, she was most skilled in manipulating luck. Thanks to the two seiðrs Hamingja, which allowed her to bestow her good fortune on others, and Fylgja, which allowed her to take on another’s misfortune, Homura’s blow had missed Hveðrungr’s vital organs by mere inches, and he fell from the rooftop as he lost his footing. He then switched places with a corpse he had prepared ahead of time that wore his distinctive mask. Luckily, Homura had never seen Hveðrungr’s facial features and had mistaken the corpse for him. Then, in a bit of fortuitous timing, Nobunaga’s messenger had chosen that moment to find her, allowing Hveðrungr to escape with his life.

“Just try not to go around making any more promises your body can’t keep. If not for me, you’d have died at least five times by now,” Sigyn chided.

“I know, and I’m grateful,” Hveðrungr replied.

“Hah! Talk is cheap, eh, dear husband?” Sigyn laughed dismissively at his words of appreciation. There was a part of Hveðrungr that was hurt by this, but he knew he only had himself to blame.

“Again, it’s the truth.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re a terrible wife. Doubting her husband’s words of gratitude.”

“Well, yeah. I’m married to one of the greatest liars in history, after all.”

Sigyn casually responded with verbal jabs of her own. He felt another surge of irritation toward her. Yet, at the same time, he found the banter both fun and reassuring. Hveðrungr would never trust anyone other than his own family. However, Sigyn was probably the only woman in the world with tastes strange enough to fully love and support a liar, an underhanded cheater, and an all-around scoundrel like him. She’d even come with him for this dangerous mission. He started to think he could trust her as well.

“Hey, Sigyn.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve just come to a shocking realization.”

“Oh?”

“I love you.”

“Wh-Whaaat?! Wh-Where did that come from?!” Sigyn let out a surprised squeak, her face flushing scarlet. Hveðrungr felt another surge of affection for her.

“Heh, how adorable. I didn’t imagine you to be so flustered by this little,” Hveðrungr said teasingly.

“Grrr! You were just messing with me, weren’t you?! C’mon, that sort of lie is too far! Y-You worthless scoundrel! Playing with a woman’s heart is the lowest of low!”

This time, Sigyn’s face was flushed with anger, and she turned away from him with a pout, despite Hveðrungr having told her the truth. She really didn’t seem to understand how men thought.

“Sigyn.”

“...”

It seemed he had thoroughly upset her, and she refused to even answer. But Hveðrungr, undeterred, continued to speak. “I’m tired. I’m going to take a short nap.”

“What?! Now?! You really are a self-centered piece of work!”

“I’ll leave the rest to you.”

With that, Hveðrungr leaned his body against Sigyn. He was, in fact, completely exhausted. Although Homura’s blade had missed vital organs, he had been stabbed in the stomach. The wound on his thigh was also deep. He had lost a bit too much blood. He knew. Just a gut feeling, really, but he knew. If he lost consciousness now, he would never awaken. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to die yet. He wanted to at least see the face of his nephew or niece. It seemed that he wouldn’t get that opportunity, however. Maybe that was poetic justice. He had killed far too many innocent people. He had deprived those innocents of their hopes and dreams. He didn’t have any regrets about doing so, but he knew there was a price to be paid for such things.

“Hey Rungr! Rungr, wake up! ...Rungr?”

Sigyn’s voice sounded so far away. It was like a lullaby to him, coaxing him further and further from consciousness. Hveðrungr’s awareness slipped away and he let go. How long had she spent trying to call him back? Sigyn pressed her palm against his chest, then gazed up forlornly at the heavens. A single tear ran down her cheek.

“Liar...”