ACT 4
“So, that idiot is making his move,” Yuuto muttered, using his customary nickname for Steinþórr.
An urgent report had just arrived from the west.
Sitting at his kotatsu and resting his chin on one hand, Yuuto sighed deeply, lamenting the trouble this report was surely going to portend.
The thick layer of snow covering Iárnviðr had now all melted clean away, and out in the fields, one could already see the growing buds of flowers here and there.
It was no longer dry and bone-chillingly cold, and the wind carried the breath of spring.
That being said, it was still a bit chilly on average, cold enough to be perfect for dozing off seated at a warm kotatsu... which was what Yuuto had been just about to do until Kristina and Albertina had arrived with the report.
“Yes, Father, because a certain idiot acted without thinking, now it is going to cause you all sorts of problems...” As Kristina spoke, she turned to stare at her sister.
It was very deliberate, accusatory even.
Immediately Albertina began to panic. “Hwah, meee?! Wait, I didn’t do anything this time!”
“Oh, my apologies. When I heard the word ‘idiot’ my mind just reflexively assumed we were talking about you, Al.”
“That’s horrible! Just what sort of person do you consider me to—”
“An idiot.”
“That was too fast! Is it really reflexive?!”
“Heh heh, naturally.”
“Why do you look proud of yourself?!” Albertina wailed. “At least act a little sorry!”
“...Tch.”
“Why are you acting even meaner instead?!”
The twins were being as boisterous as ever.
As of late, Yuuto had gotten used enough to their comedic back-and-forth antics that they’d become a source of entertainment for him. But right now, he couldn’t afford to let himself get comfortable or distracted.
“Kristina,” he said. “Quit playing for now and give me the details of the report.”
“Yes, Father.” As if a switch had been flipped, Kristina’s face instantly became serious, and she nodded solemnly.
The way she transformed on a dime like that, and so completely, was something Yuuto had at first had trouble dealing with, but now he was so used to it that he didn’t pay it any mind.
“According to the report from our spies, a Lightning Clan force of 8,000 men has departed east from Bilskírnir, led by Steinþórr.”
“W-wait, hold on, they’ve already marched?!” Yuuto cried. “We never got any reports that they’d begun their war preparations, not a thing!”
Wide-eyed, Yuuto sat up, and the fist that had been at his cheek dropped to the tabletop.
The Lightning Clan had fought a proper war with the Wolf Clan once during the previous summer, and during the fall, they’d been acting for a time as if they might try to invade again, so of course the Wolf Clan had been treating them as the highest class of threat, watching them vigilantly.
Several agents trained under Kristina had been sent to infiltrate the Lightning Clan, and they were supposed to be sending detailed reports at the first sign of any suspicious activity.
And yet, here the enemy troops were already on the march. This was a huge shock to Yuuto.
“Indeed, they managed to hide everything from us all the way to the end,” Kristina said. “I suspect this is likely the work of the Lightning Clan second-in-command, Röskva.”
“Röskva... She’s an Einherjar with the rune Tanngnjóstr, the Teeth-Grinder, right?” Yuuto asked. “I’ve heard she’s also sometimes called by the alias of ‘Teeth-Grinder’ herself.”
“Yes, and it’s a fitting name, if for a very different reason. Her cunning schemes are what make other people grind their teeth. Even I was completely taken in this time.” Kristina grimaced as she spat out the words, and it was clearly her actual emotion and not a dramatic flair, a rarity for her.
Kristina might be young in terms of age, but when it came to intelligence gathering, she was nothing short of a genius. Having been so cleanly outsmarted by the enemy must have injured her pride.
Of course, the fact that she had still started off the meeting by messing with her sister just showed that, injured pride or not, she was still uncompromising when it came to that part of her personality.
“Well, I really have to hand it to them, in any case,” Yuuto said with another frown. “Just where did they even find enough soldiers to make another force of 8,000?”
It was the same number of troops as in the Lightning Clan’s army half a year ago at the Battle of Élivágar River.
What was important to note was that they’d reached that number again despite the fact that Yuuto’s flash-flood tactic had dealt them several thousand casualties.
And furthermore, they’d somehow been able to organize, relocate, and equip a force that size all without Kristina catching wind of it. It was a mystery how Röskva had managed that one.
“She’s good. Too good to waste on that idiot,” Yuuto sighed. “Honestly, I’d love to recruit her myself.”
When it came to the Lightning Clan, the Battle-Hungry Tiger Steinþórr was certainly the star of their show, but without a doubt, that was also made possible because Röskva’s exceptional political and administrative skills were supporting him from behind the scenes.
Still, Yuuto couldn’t afford to waste too much time praising his enemy. This situation required urgent action.
“Gather the troops, as quickly as humanly possible. We’ll set out and intercept the Lightning Clan on the field!”
The area just outside the Iárnviðr gates was jam-packed with people.
Pack horses were lined up against the walls, with soldiers forming single-file lines leading up to them. Each soldier waited in turn to receive packs of equipment and supplies, which he then took back to his own squad. The squads were gathered in various places.
The overall din was punctuated here and there by the shouts of a squad doing roll-call, or the screams of a harried argument over some issue or another.
In a corner of the city some distance away from the amassed troops, Rífa looked on with wonder, twirling the handle of her cloth parasol. “Oho... quite the spectacle.”
This wasn’t just some large gathering of people. These people were about to go to war, and there was a palpable sense of heat, of violence, coming off of them.
Even watching them from a distance, that violent heat sent a chill up Rífa’s spine, and goosebumps rose on her arms.
“I am sorry about this,” Yuuto told her. He bowed his head, looking a little guilty. “Even though this is supposed to be your sendoff, it has ended up being so rushed.”
Indeed, this was the day when Rífa would depart Iárnviðr, the beginning of her journey home. And yet, despite the fact that Yuuto was overwhelmed by all of his hurried preparations for war, he had still made the time to come see her off.
Perhaps because he would be setting off himself soon after, Yuuto was dressed in jet-black, with a mantle to match, and his expression looked quite a bit more stern and gallant than usual.
Rífa felt her heartbeat rise slightly at this different version of the man.
“No, that cannot be helped,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “Your enemies have begun their attack, after all.”
“I appreciate you saying that.”
“Do you... think you will win?”
“I have no intention of fighting a losing battle,” Yuuto said, with a hint of a wry smile.
Despite the fact that war was so close, he did not seem nervous, but neither did he seem overly relaxed.
He looked... natural.
This was a person who had already fought his way through over a dozen battles, despite his young age. This was perhaps what the face of military experience looked like.
As he glanced off to the side at the distant soldiers, Rífa found herself momentarily entranced by his face in profile.
You really are a sinful man, Yuuto, she thought with a regretful chuckle.
“I see,” she said. “Well, in that case, I shall ask that you do your best not to die, then.”
“Of course. And when things settle down, please come visit us again. We would be happy to have you.”
“Is that really all right? I am fairly sure I have caused you all sorts of trouble while I have been here.”
“Ahaha.” Yuuto gave a dry laugh, and averted his eyes. The fact that he didn’t deny it meant he was essentially agreeing.
Rífa was a bit annoyed by this, but at the same time, she found it comforting. Around the time when they’d first met, as a clan patriarch, he would never have allowed himself to act like that with her.
It was evidence of how much closer they’d become during these past three months.
“So much has happened...” Rífa felt herself getting emotional, feeling that tinge of loneliness that comes with knowing good things must come to an end.
As she closed her eyes, scenes flashed in and out of her mind of all the things she had experienced over these three months. Each and every one of them had been a first-time experience in her life.
They were all precious to her, and the memories sparkled like gems in the depths of her heart.
One of them was considerably brighter than the rest.
“I would say the greatest memory has to be that hotpot we ate together,” she said. “It was truly delicious!”
“Huh? But didn’t you complain at the time that the flavor was too weak?”
“Erm...! You do not need to recall that part.” Rífa frowned at Yuuto’s unnecessary quibble.
It was true that when she had first tasted the food, she had indeed been unsatisfied. But then, before she realized it, she had found herself eating heartily, so heartily that in the end, she had given herself heartburn.
And now thinking back, however simple and plain the flavor might have been, she found herself feeling nostalgic for that taste in a way she had never felt towards all the various delicious foods she had eaten thus far.
She was also aware of the true reason for that.
It was, simply, because she had been happy.
Gathering around a table with people the same age as her, laughing and making noise together, was something Rífa had never once experienced until that night.
It was perhaps something trivial to the common people, something they took for granted, but to Rífa, the memory of that night was a precious and irreplaceable time.
“Er, Lady Rífa, are... are you crying?” Yuuto stammered.
“F-fool, I am of course not crying! The sun is simply too bright for my eyes!”
“The sun... but the sky is cloudy right now.”
“Well, even so, it is still too bright for me!” Rífa protested while rubbing the corners of her eyes with both hands.
In actuality, Rífa’s eyes were incredibly sensitive to light. Even with a cloudy sky like today’s, it felt too bright for her liking.
Of course, not bright enough to make her eyes water. However, for some reason, her eyes felt terribly hot right now. She couldn’t pull her hands away.
“I... am not crying, you understand,” Rífa said, sniffling a bit.
“...Of course,” Yuuto responded softly, and then remained silent. He waited patiently for Rífa’s tears to stop.
That kindness of his made it feel like something in Rífa’s heart was about to burst.
“That reminds me,” she said at last. “You have done so much for me, and yet I have given you no reward.”
Rífa tilted her parasol slightly forward so that it concealed the top of her face and eyes.
“Huh? Oh, no, that isn’t necessary, really.” Yuuto casually waved his hand, dismissing her offer.
Normally, powerful rulers were possessed with strong ambitions and greed, but as always, this young man seemed to lack any such desires.
However, Rífa was the kind of girl who was used to getting what she wanted, and did not take kindly to being refused. She stubbornly persisted. “Do you think I will accept that? I am the þjóðann. I will not go without rewarding my subjects for their accomplishments. It is a matter of honor.”
“R-right.”
“What is that half-hearted response?” she demanded, offended. “I am personally offering you a reward.”
“Oh, uh, thank you very much, Your Majesty.”
“Don’t bother tacking on such a forced thank-you! I do not need it.”
“S-sorry.”
“Hmph. With you as obstinate as you are, do not be surprised if that girl you love grows tired of you.”
“Ahaha, I’ll do my best to improve.”
“Right, then. Here, take it.” Rífa held out a clenched fist, then opened it.
Yuuto looked at her palm for a second, then squinted, puzzled. “Um, I don’t see anything there...”
“Excuse me? What are you saying? It is right there. Your eyesight certainly is bad.”
“Well, yeah, compared to the average person here, my eyes aren’t as good, sure, but...”
“Go on, then. Lean in and look closer.”
“R-right.” Yuuto leaned down to put his face close to Rífa’s palm, and squinted hard, trying to see what was in her hand. But judging by his tense expression, he still didn’t see anything.
“There, that should be just right. You are quite tall, after all.”
“Huh?” Yuuto clearly didn’t understand the meaning behind Rífa’s words, and his face turned up to look at hers.
Rífa tossed aside the parasol, and quickly placing her hands on both of Yuuto’s cheeks, she closed her eyes and gently pulled him in.
Then she pressed her lips up against his.
“Mm, mmph?!”
“L-Lady Rífa?!” Felicia shouted.
As Felicia raised her voice in alarm, Yuuto reacted by struggling to pull back, but Rífa didn’t let him go. She made sure to engrave the sensation of their lips and that moment into her memory... and into his.
After a full five seconds, she finally released him.
“Kh...!” As she did, Yuuto practically leaped backward, staring at her with eyes filled with shock.
Rífa picked her parasol back up and flashed him a triumphant smile. “Hm-hm-hm, carelessness is a warrior’s worst foe. It seems I managed to trick the Wolf Clan’s undefeated commander.”
“Wh-why... why did you do that?!” Yuuto completely ignored her boast and simply threw that question at her.
He wasn’t even worth taunting.
“Hmph,” she scoffed, “are you not planning to march off to war? The þjóðann herself just personally granted you what amounts to a holy blessing, in hopes that you shall be victorious.”
“Wh-whaaat...? Th-that’s a favor I didn’t ask for, though... er... I mean!” Perhaps because he was still confused, Yuuto’s true feelings slipped out first.
Rífa gave a wry chuckle. “You truly never change... You are as rude as ever!”
“I’m sorry... I really am.”
“Oh, it is fine.” Rífa laughed and waved off Yuuto’s timid apology.
That indelicate side of him was part of what had attracted her to him in the first place.
Everyone who ever met Rífa treated her with reverence and awe. That was, in its way, unavoidable. To the people of Yggdrasil, the þjóðann was just that sort of figure.
However, this young man was different.
He might use proper respectful language towards her, but the respect in that language was nothing more than a surface formality.
And that was good.
He was the only one who had seen her as a normal girl, who had treated her with kindness as if she were a normal girl.
He had never shown the slightest interest whatsoever in her position as the þjóðann, or in trying to use her in any way.
And for a girl who had grown up sheltered from the outside world, that was enough to ignite the first fleeting feelings of passion within her.
When Rífa spoke again, her smile was both cheerful and somewhat lonely. “It is said that even unrequited love is still love, yes? The sort a normal girl experiences in a normal life. Surely I can count myself as lucky to have given my first kiss to a man I truly loved.”
“Wh-whaat?! Loved, as in... m-me?!” Yuuto cried.
“Why are you even asking that now?” Rífa’s shoulders drooped, and she gave an exasperated sigh.
She had kissed him, so of course such a thing should go without saying.
He is such a thick-headed man that I feel sorry for the struggles the women around him must go through, Rífa thought, unable to suppress sympathy for her rivals in love.
“Well, at least I have given myself one last wonderful memory before marriage,” Rífa said. “I cannot exactly do anything unfaithful once I am a man’s wife, after all.”
“Huh?! M-marriage?!” Yuuto stuttered.
“Why are you even surprised? I am the þjóðann. I carry the blood of Divine Emperor Wotan, and along with it the duty to pass on that bloodline. And I am of marriageable age, as well. A few marriage proposals at this point should not be surprising in the least.”
“B-but, well, th-that may be true, but...!” Yuuto seemed particularly flustered.
This made Rífa feel incredibly happy.
Of course, she understood that, in the end, it was his instinctive reaction because she had the same face as the girl he loved, and that was confusing him.
“U-um, what sort of person is he?” Yuuto ventured.
“He is High Priest of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire, and patriarch of the great Spear Clan. ...And, well, he is also a repulsive old man well past the age of sixty.”
“Sixty?!” Yuuto went bug-eyed.
That was, perhaps, a natural reaction. Rífa was sixteen, so he was easily old enough to be her grandfather.
Not to mention, in Yggdrasil just making it to fifty was considered a very long life. Sixty was considered so old that he might be expected to pass away any day now. One could indeed call it a very irregular marriage.
“Why would someone so mismatched be...? Can you not refuse?”
“Impossible, I fear,” Rífa said regretfully. “Already that man... Hárbarth has the central empire firmly in the palm of his hand. There is no longer anyone left in the imperial court who can defy him. He controls everyone.”
“Th-that can’t be! But... but even so, you...!”
“What, then are you saying you wish to marry me, then?” Rífa met Yuuto’s eyes with a pointed and mischievous look.
“That’s...” Yuuto couldn’t get any more words out than that.
Rífa was aware herself of how unfair she was being to him. But this was the man who had turned down her love, after all. There was no harm in just a little bit of payback.
“Now then, it really has gotten too painful for me to remain out in the sunlight any longer,” she said flippantly. “I am reluctant to do so, but I shall have to take my leave.”
Rífa turned and made her way towards her carriage.
Yuuto called out kind words of farewell from behind her. “Of course, Lady Rífa. I wish you well, and safe travels on the road!”
You’ll leave me with a kind farewell, but never the words I truly want to hear, she thought.
Rífa raised one hand and waved as she walked, but she did not turn to look back at him.
“Farewell, then. I will spend my journey home praying for your victory.”
After Rífa’s carriage started off, the smug voice of a little girl called down from above, and a shadowy figure dropped to the ground from atop a nearby date palm tree.
“Heh heh! Why, Father, you never do fail to impress. To think you would even make Her Imperial Majesty swoon for you.”
“Eh?! Kris?!” Felicia cried out in surprise, and her expression was positively mortified.
As Yuuto’s personal bodyguard, the fact that she had allowed someone to come so close to him without ever noticing their presence must have been a painful failure for her.
However, one could say that she was simply up against the wrong sort of opponent this time.
Kristina was an Einherjar of the rune Veðrfölnir, Silencer of Winds. The abilities it granted her meant she was second to none at erasing her presence, and a natural at spycraft.
Of course, if Kristina had harbored any murderous intent towards them, Felicia would have immediately sensed it.
“Heh heh, Al is here too.” Kristina giggled and pointed up to the top of the tree, where Albertina was saying “Waaah, uwaaah,” to herself and covering her eyes bashfully with both hands.
...Naturally, with a gap in-between her fingers to see through.
There was no need to wonder, then; apparently, they had both witnessed the kiss. And they had both learned of Rífa’s true identity.
Yuuto shook his head and sighed. “Eavesdropping and peeking? You’ve got poor taste in hobbies.”
“Oh, do not worry, it happens to be my job,” Kristina smirked.
“Then instead of me, go peek in on the state of things in the Lightning Clan.”
“Of course. All in due time. Though, instead of concerning yourself with me, are you sure you are all right with letting Rífa go?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. She committed to going back. I can’t exactly just stop her from leaving.” Yuuto spat out the words bitterly, and clenched his fists.
Those words were partly aimed at himself.
If she returned, then Rífa would have to marry the old man who was patriarch of the Spear Clan.
It was a political marriage, and one that Rífa herself clearly was against. She was a girl of only sixteen, being forced to wed a man she didn’t like, old enough to be her grandfather. There was no chance she wasn’t miserable at the prospect.
Honestly, he did want to stop her from going.
As her friend, he felt angry on her behalf, and he’d love to help her by breaking up the arranged marriage.
However, Rífa was the þjóðann, the Divine Empress who ruled all the lands of Yggdrasil, and Yuuto was nothing more than the Wolf Clan patriarch, a provincial vassal.
If he acted rashly and tried to harbor her, he could easily end up being painted as a traitor to the empire, a horrible man who’d kidnapped his empress.
In a situation like that, the actual truth didn’t matter. What mattered was that it would give everyone else a political justification to take action against him.
“If the me of two years ago saw me now, I’m sure he’d scream at me not to sit on the fence like a chicken, and he’d curse my guts out,” Yuuto whispered to no one in particular, a self-mocking sneer on his face.
He was envious of the Yuuto back then for being able to say something like that... and at the same time, detested him.
That sort of naïve platitude might sound good on the face of it, but looked at another way, it would be imploring Yuuto to place all of the countless lives of his people in danger for the sake of helping Rífa, a single person.
Right at this moment he was beginning a war with the Lightning Clan, and the Panther Clan still threatened him from the northwest. Creating any more enemies at this point was far too dangerous.
As a clan patriarch, he could not forgive himself the luxury of making decisions while drunk on heroism.
Sure, this did feel like he was abandoning Rífa to her fate, and it left him with an unbearable pain in his heart. But Yuuto had to bear it. He would do so in order to fulfill his duty as the ruler of his people.
Swallowing his feelings, Yuuto turned to face his troops, his mantle flapping behind him.
“Wolf Clan troops, we are moving out!!”
Bruno, the high priest and chief elder of the Wolf Clan, shouted his prayer towards the heavens. He held aloft a golden sword and then swung it down on the young goat lying on the sanctuary altar. “Oh, Angrboða, divine guardian and mother to us all. Please, grant your protection to your children who set off now to battle! Grant us victory!”
Fresh blood sprayed up onto him, staining his face and robes. But Bruno did not react to this, continuing to stab the goat over and over.
This ritual sacrifice was made in prayer for victory in war.
Though it might seem cruel to modern minds, such practices had been common not just in Yggdrasil, but all across Earth in ancient times. One could even say that since they were not sacrificing fellow humans, it was comparatively tame.
Bruno held up the sword again, its blade now stained completely red, and cried out in a high voice.
“Now, let us all raise our voices together! Grant us victory! Victory!”
“Victory!! Victory!!” a chorus of cries rang out in response to Bruno’s appeal.
There were several dozen others in attendance in the hörgr, the wide sanctuary chamber at the top of the Wolf Clan’s sacred tower Hliðskjálf. They held their hands clasped together in front of their chests, their eyes closed tightly.
Jörgen, Ingrid, and Ephelia were among them.
Those who could not personally go out and fight would pray to the gods in this manner for the safety of their friends and loved ones, out there on the battlefield.
There were similar sanctuaries in the city itself, and right now, they were surely overflowing with people coming to pray.
Once the ceremony had finished, Jörgen loosened up his stiff neck with a few cracks, and made his way out of the sanctuary, grumbling to himself.
“Phew! Honestly, that annoying Lightning Clan brat. He just had to go and do this during such a busy time of the year...”
It was only a portion of the men who were conscripted to go out to fight, generally speaking each family’s third son and lower. So even in a time of war, it wasn’t as if all the men had left the city and surroundings, but it was still unmistakably a huge decrease in the available labor force.
With Yuuto gone, Jörgen served as his representative and carried all of the patriarch’s authority. Which meant that now he would be dealing with all the problems and dilemmas, foreseen and unforeseen, that arose. It was going to be a lot of headaches.
An unexpected voice called out warmly to him as he finished descending the sacred tower’s outer staircase. “Ohh! Why, if it isn’t Jörgen!”
Turning around, he saw a well-built, middle-aged man with an elegantly trimmed beard, smiling and waving to him. He was dressed finely, marking him as a man of high status.
He was no member of the Wolf Clan, but no stranger either; Jörgen recognized him right away.
“Ah, Lord Alexis. I did not realize you were here. I must humbly thank you again for acting as mediator for me during my Oath of the Chalice Ceremony at the New Year’s Festival.”
Jörgen spoke humbly, for this was a goði, a high-ranking priest of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire who also served as its representative.
During the New Year’s Festival, when the other subsidiary clans had exchanged the Oath of the Chalice with each other and with Jörgen, it was Alexis who had served as the official intermediary during the ceremony.
“Oh no, no, that was also my first time getting the opportunity to administer such a large group ceremony,” Alexis said, smiling. “You allowed me to have a very useful learning experience.”
“Oh, please, you mustn’t be so humble,” Jörgen said. “Your poise and command of the ritual was simply masterful.”
“Ha ha ha, it doesn’t feel bad at all to receive that sort of praise.”
“By the way, Lord Alexis, what brings you to Iárnviðr?” Jörgen asked.
“Ah, well, a little rumor on the wind, actually. I heard that a lady of the imperial family was staying here in Iárnviðr, and since I was nearby, thought I might pay my respects.”
“Ah, you must be referring to Lady Rífa,” Jörgen said, nodding.
In the culture of the empire, it made perfect sense that an imperial priest might seek to pay a respectful visit to a member of the imperial household if he learned she were nearby.
“Still, you were just a bit too late. Just this morning, Lady Rífa set out to return home.”
“Yes, so it would seem. I suppose I missed my chance. When I learned that, I thought that in that case, since I was already here, I might as well visit the Hliðskjálf and offer a prayer of thanks to the gods for my arriving here safely. But are you perhaps in the middle of something here?”
“Yes, the Lightning Clan still hasn’t learned their lesson, and they’ve launched another invasion, you see. We were all just finishing up our ceremony to pray for Father and everyone else’s victory in battle and safe return.”
“I see. Then perhaps I shall hold off for today and come back later.”
“Oh, no worries, we’ve just now finished. Please, use the hörgr as you like.”
“Ah ha ha! No, after hearing the prayers of so many, even the gods must be tired out. I shall come back tomorrow. Well then, take care.” Alexis waved casually and turned around, walking back the way he’d come.
And once he’d walked some distance, and could be sure there was no one around who could hear him, he snickered and muttered smugly to himself.
“Heh heh heh, of course, no matter how much you all pray to the gods, that boy will never make it back here again.”
The sound of hooves echoed like thunder across the earth.
The bay-haired horse carrying Steinþórr streaked across the battlefield.
He swung a long iron warhammer as he rode. A normal human would have difficulty in even just picking up such a large and heavy weapon, but the red-haired young man whirled it around as easily as if he were twirling a light wooden stick.
Every time the Wolf Clan soldiers tried to block his path, they were one by one pulled into the reach of his iron storm, and sent flying.
“Uwaah!”
“Gyaah!”
At last, Steinþórr caught sight of one particular man.
He looked to be in his late thirties, with a rugged and strong-looking face. With just a glance at his body, one could see the build and brawn that marked him as a formidable warrior.
But upon locking eyes with the one said to have the heart of a tiger, even that man gasped, his face going taut.
“Raaagh!” Steinþórr roared.
“Gahk...!”
With a mighty roar, Steinþórr brought his hammer down in a heavy vertical swing from his position high atop his horse.
The attack was so lightning fast that the other man had no time to even react, and his head was quite literally shattered, leaving the rest of him to fall over as a bloody corpse.
The next moment, all of the surrounding Lightning Clan soldiers burst out into triumphant cheering.
“Yeaaahhhh! Lord Steinþórr has defeated the enemy commander!”
“We’re victorious!”
“All hail Dólgþrasir, the Battle-Hungry Tiger!”
At that last cry, the other soldiers all began to chant in chorus, “All hail Dólgþrasir, the Battle-Hungry Tiger!!”
They thrust their spears into the air, and their cries of victory began to resonate. The chorus spread outward, and in the blink of an eye encompassed the entire fortress and the area around it.
They were fighting for control of a fortress next to the border between the Wolf and Lightning Clans. It had once been under Lightning Clan control, but in the previous summer’s war, the Wolf Clan had seized it. Gaining back a bit of what they’d lost was surely adding joy to the Lightning Clan soldiers’ celebrations.
“Ahh, this wasn’t all that satisfying, though,” Steinþórr muttered. “Well, I guess it’s fine for an appetizer.”
A slender man with a clean-cut, graceful sort of face rode up alongside Steinþórr and called out to him.
“Quite amazing, Uncle! I should have expected no less. You took the whole fortress without even breaking a sweat. I had planned to come to your aid if it looked like you were encountering any difficulty, but such a plan was completely unnecessary, it seems!”
This man wore the same equipment as a standard Lightning Clan soldier, but his handling of his horse was much more experienced.
The man’s name was Narfi, and he was one of the generals of the Panther Clan.
In a clan filled largely with men who were on the whole vulgar and crude, this man seemed to have a much more mild-mannered and composed air about him, and that was one of the reasons he had been selected to be sent with Steinþórr and the Lightning Clan to manage communication between the two armies.
Steinþórr used the hilt of his warhammer to tap the armor on his shoulder. “Hey, Narfi. Naw, you guys are already giving me plenty of assistance.”
He wasn’t lying, either. The Lightning Clan had been able to coordinate and launch such an immediate blitzkrieg invasion before the Wolf Clan could notice, and the whole reason for that in the first place was that the Panther Clan had put up all of the equipment and supplies for both armies.
At the Battle of Élivágar River during the previous war, the Lightning Clan had lost a great many soldiers and a sizable chunk of territory, and the harsh drop in its military power had been tough.
The varied support offered to them by the Panther Clan had come at exactly the time when they most needed it.
Of course, it wasn’t for free, and the Panther Clan expected something in return.
“Oh, that assistance is nothing, my red-haired Lord Uncle. I would not even call it such.” With a friendly smile, Narfi spread his arms wide open. “We of the Panther Clan and Lightning Clan are brothers now, after all.”
Steinþórr snorted in laughter. “Hah, yeah, and you say that while using us, your brothers, as shields. You guys are really something.”
The main points of the clans’ strategy had already been determined.
The Lightning Clan army was to serve as the vanguard.
Last fall, the Panther Clan had lost in battle to a novel Wolf Clan tactic that made use of iron-plated wagon carriages to form a wall. Steinþórr, with his rune Mjǫlnir, the Shatterer, was the only one capable of smashing right through that defensive wall. At least, that was the official reason given.
But put another way, the Panther Clan strategy was to push all of the most dangerous work onto the Lightning Clan, and then to swoop in at the end and reap the rewards of victory for themselves.
“N-n-n-no, th-that is... that is not true at all!” Narfi cried. “It is as I told you before: we alone cannot overcome the enemy’s defensive wall! Of course, I realize that this places the more disadvantageous roles onto you and the Lightning Clan, Uncle, but my sworn father Hveðrungr most assuredly intends to repay you for that, in good faith. If there is anything that you want for, please tell me.”
Narfi seemed to be panicking, trying his best to smooth things over, but Steinþórr wasn’t interested in his words. He waved dismissively at Narfi to stop, as if shooing away a dog.
“Heh, well, that sort of logistics stuff I’ve left to Þjálfi and Röskva. Ask them about it. I’m fine as long as I get one more chance to fight with Suoh-Yuuto.” Steinþórr clenched his fists, cracking his knuckles.
Indeed, to him, everything other than that was trivial.
As part of his declaration of war, he’d used the official justification that he was retaking the lands that had been seized from him previously. But personally, as he’d said himself at the time, “Who cares about the details.”
It was his undying thirst for battle, driven by his instincts, that had made him a ruler people called “the lord with the heart of a tiger.”
“They can try and use me as a disposable pawn, for all I care. It’s fine,” he said with a grin.
After all, in the end, this “brotherhood” wasn’t a bond of trust, but a thin political alliance based only on cost and gain.
He was himself using the Panther Clan, so that he might once more get a chance to settle things with the one man who had been able to defeat him, and see who was stronger.
So there was nothing wrong with letting the Panther Clan use him and the Lightning Clan for their own selfish ends, as well.
If taking that risk ended with him winding up dead somehow, then that was just the limit of his strength as a man.
Steinþórr cackled loudly, viciously, and the savage beast within him revealed itself in his expression.
“All it means is that I shouldn’t wait for you assholes to come in and take my chance. I just need to hurry ahead and take him down myself first!”
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