ACT 5
“Her Majesty awaits you in here.”
Escorted by Erna, Yuuto was led to a particular room.
Sigtuna’s palace was by far the largest Yuuto had seen anywhere in Yggdrasil. It was befitting of such a great clan. Inside the room, an extremely familiar-looking young woman was lit by pure, white light.
“Y-Your Majesty! You’re safe!” Fagrahvél, who had been standing near him, said happily and ran toward her.
Indeed, it was Sigrdrífa, þjóðann of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire.
While he had met her before, no matter how many times he looked at her, she resembled his beloved wife, Mitsuki.
But there was something... Something that felt different from before.
Was it simply because it had been a while since they’d last met?
“Ahh, Fagrahvél. You’re alive. That gladdens my heart.”
“Yes. Unable to fulfill your orders, I find myself shamed by my failure. But even in that shame, I’m truly glad to once again see you, Your Majesty.”
“Pay it no mind. You were simply matched against the wrong opponent.”
Sigrdrífa patted Fagrahvél on the shoulder to try to reassure her. It was the very image of a generous sovereign forgiving her subordinate, which was why it felt off.
“It has been a while, Your Majesty.”
Yuuto made a point to address her formally. When she had stayed at Iárnviðr, it had been “Lady Rífa.” It was only vaguely so, but she hated being called “Your Majesty.” She had truly enjoyed being referred to by her name.
There was a sense that, free from the constraints of the palace and her responsibilities as þjóðann, she was able—for a while—to avoid the “special treatment” that she so hated.
He’d thought she’d react negatively to being addressed this way. However...
“Mm. It has indeed been a while, Reginarch of the Steel Clan.”
Sigrdrífa smiled seductively at him and returned his greeting.
Yuuto continued to feel more and more uneasy about her...
Sigrdrífa used to address Yuuto as Lord Yuuto. This inconsistency could reasonably be shrugged off due to the fact that they were in a formal setting, but her smile was also different from how he remembered.
“How do I put it? You seem to have changed a bit.”
“Hah. Six months is more than enough time for people to change. You’re no exception, are you?”
Rífa casually dodged Yuuto’s attempt to probe her. Phrased that way, he himself was aware that he too had changed quite a bit over the last six months.
“Well then, shall I show you I am who I claim to be?”
With that, Rífa closed her eyes, and after a moment’s pause, opened them again. In her eyes were the twin sigils that proved she was the reigning þjóðann.
The ásmegin that enveloped her body increased in intensity to the point where even Yuuto, despite his inability to feel or see such things, could feel the change in the room. There was no way to deny that she was, in fact, Sigrdrífa herself.
“Well then, Your Majesty. I hear you wish to surrender to us?”
With a creak, Yuuto settled into the chair across from Rífa and asked the question with a skeptical gaze.
“Indeed, that is so. I have come as a direct representative of the empire. We, the empire, shall surrender to your Steel Clan. With regard to the subjugation order, we will provide you an apology and rescind it, effective immediately.”
Following her statement, Sigrdrífa bowed her head deeply.
It was surprising to see her apologize so easily, especially given her privileged upbringing as the þjóðann—not to mention her personality, one tinged with an arrogance that could only be explained by the entitlement of a royal upbringing.
It could be dismissed as personal growth, but it still felt off.
“...T-Truly, Your Majesty?”
It was Fagrahvél, not Yuuto, who asked the question. The color had drained from her face in its entirety.
“M-My apologies, Your Majesty! The shame I feel for being the one responsible for bringing an end to the proud two-hundred-year history of the empire is immeasurable...”
It appeared she felt responsible for the outcome. Her guilt was understandable given that her army of thirty thousand had been routed by the Steel Clan’s mere ten thousand.
Sigrdrífa raised her head and spoke with a determined cast in her eye.
“I have no intention of letting it end. Rather, I’m here to make sure it doesn’t end.”
“Which means...?” Yuuto asked suspiciously.
There was a note of deviousness lurking beneath her words.
“Meaning, Lord Yuuto, I’m asking if you will marry me and take the throne as þjóðann yourself.”
That night—
“So, what do you think?”
Yuuto summoned Fagrahvél to his room and immediately got to the point. He had managed to buy time on the matter of marriage, citing the need for careful consideration given the sheer scale of what had been proposed.
Yes, there was definitely an enormous advantage to becoming þjóðann. However...
“For me, I can’t shake the feeling there’s something off about Her Majesty,” Yuuto said without hesitation.
Certainly, given the right opportunity, people can change dramatically, even over the course of a mere few days. Yuuto himself knew that from personal experience. The day he lost both his sworn father and older brother, his old self had fallen away. It was perfectly plausible that something of the sort could well have happened to her as well.
But there was something different about the current situation.
“Yes, I have known her since we were both children, but I too feel there’s something off about her.”
Fagrahvél furrowed her brow in thought as she nodded her agreement.
She and Sigrdrífa were milk siblings. If even she felt something was different about her, they couldn’t stand to ignore that sign.
“Possibilities are a galdr or seiðr. There’s also the possibility of drugs or hypnosis. On this, I’d like your input as well, Felicia.”
Yuuto directed his gaze to his assistant standing nearby. Felicia directed her eyes upward in thought, spending a few moments considering before speaking.
“I’m sorry. I have never heard of any techniques of that sort, either,” she said apologetically, glancing down at the ground.
I suppose it’s never that simple, Yuuto thought, and let out a disappointed sigh.
“However...”
“Mm?”
“I sense there’s something different about her soul, a change in her aura.”
It was vague and difficult to put into words.
For Yuuto, who as a non-Einherjar couldn’t sense ásmegin, it was a hard concept to grasp, but it seemed it struck a chord with Fagrahvél.
“Oh! Yes, now that you mention it! So that’s what feels off about her!”
She nodded intently, as though something finally made sense to her. Her rune was also closer to that of a seiðr user. That probably let her sense that change.
“Despite looking so energetic and healthy, her soul’s aura is awfully weak!”
“Oh, of course! So that’s why she seemed odd!”
Felicia brought her fist down on her palm as though she’d come to some realization. It wasn’t helping when only they seemed to get it. He felt completely left out of the conversation.
“Then, I believe it’s safe to assume that old monster is controlling her. To control Her Majesty and try to manipulate her to his advantage... That is a crime bordering on blasphemy!” Fagrahvél said heatedly, an unusual display of emotion that belied her anger. She made no effort of hiding her hatred.
He needed to confirm who she was referring to.
“Am I correct in assuming the ‘old monster’ refers to Hárbarth? The patriarch of the Spear Clan and the empire’s High Priest?”
“Yes. He had previously shunted Her Majesty aside and had been running the empire as though it were his own, but I had never imagined he’d go this far...!”
Fagrahvél balled her hands into fists, as though to try to find an outlet for her frustration. Likely she was wishing the man himself was here so she could pound him into the floor.
“What’s he like? His personality, I mean.”
He started with a simple question. It was almost certain that Hárbarth was behind the þjóðann’s direct offer of surrender. No doubt some scheme lay hidden under the surface of the proposal.
The war they were fighting now wasn’t one of swords, spears, and bows. It was a diplomatic war that mixed truth and lies as its weapons of choice.
Then, while perhaps rude to phrase this way, it was important to know not about Rífa, who was merely another piece on the chess board, but the hand moving the pieces on the other side of the board.
“Let’s see. In a word, he’s a knave that’s too clever for his own good. Our Bára is quite resourceful when it comes to trickery, but he has a cunning that exceeds even hers. I suppose that about sums him up.”
“Oh, really? I’ve heard Bára was able to fool even my brother Hveðrungr. To be even better than that...”
Yuuto widened his eyes in surprise.
A knave that’s too clever for his own good. The description, at first, made him seem like a petty figure, but it was often the case that in conflict, the smallest gaps can create opportunities that wind up making a significant difference.
Yuuto was well aware that when push comes to shove, it wasn’t the calm, unflappable leader, unbothered by nagging details that was the strongest, but rather, it was often the petty sorts.
In that sense, Hveðrungr had been quite a bothersome opponent.
For there to be someone who was above even that sort of level... It would seem that the world always had a bigger fish.
“Yes, he’s devilishly good at gathering information, manipulating that information, and using it to seal off the avenues of his escape for his opponents and slowly corner them into doing his bidding. While I don’t know how he did it, at Vígríðr he fed us information about the movements and locations of the cavalry, when they’d attack, and all the other details through Alexis.”
“Ah, if I recall, he’s known as Skilfingr, the Watcher from on High.”
Yuuto had heard of that nickname, but it seemed the man was even more dangerous than he had thought. It was true that Hveðrungr had noted the enemy was completely aware of where they had been, but this provided backing for that suspicion.
In Yggdrasil, there were no military satellites, cell phones, or anything of that sort—Hárbarth’s ability was quite remarkable indeed.
“If he can see that well, we should assume he’s listening to this conversation as well. I suppose I’m not one to talk, but yeesh, that’s a cheat ability if there ever was one.”
Yuuto gazed up at the ceiling, the chair creaking as he rested his weight against the back. His opponent could see his cards, while he couldn’t see his opponent’s hand. To play out a battle of wits and bluffing under these circumstances could only be described as a mighty challenge.
“Tch, but I suppose nothing ventured, nothing gained. I’ll have to take the challenge.”
Yuuto clicked his tongue and scowled bitterly.
Being able to use the þjóðann as a pawn to garner and maintain control over all of Yggdrasil was something he desired greatly. Moreover, she was someone he owed a debt to, and she was a vital piece in terms of keeping the powerful Sword Clan aligned with him.
In that sense, rather than returning her to the empire due to the risk she represented, it was probably best to keep her close at hand.
“I’m not that good at this sort of game, but I suppose I’ll take all the measures I can for now.”
Yuuto let out a weary sigh. He didn’t like dealing with cloak-and-dagger schemes.
He much preferred doing everything he could to put himself into a position to win and crushing his opponent’s plans with overwhelming force.
And so, he decided—that was what he was going to do.
“We thank you for waiting. We, the Steel Clan, intend to accept the empire’s surrender.”
The next day, Yuuto invited Sigrdrífa to breakfast, and those were the first words out of his mouth.
Upon the circular table sat a hamburger, a dish that Rífa had been extremely impressed with during her stay at Iárnviðr. Despite the fact that at the time, Rífa had been thoroughly taken by the dish, today she only gave it a suspicious glance.
Again, her reaction felt off.
“Ah, indeed. I’m grateful.”
Rífa smiled elegantly, not giving so much as a glance to the hamburger.
With that, Yuuto renewed his determination. He switched his mindset over to that of a patriarch.
Discarding sentiment, he closed off his emotions.
“However, the fact of the matter is that the Steel Clan subjugation order put us in an extraordinary amount of danger. Even considering we’re dealing with the empire itself, to let this pass without any cost would damage my authority as reginarch.”
Gazing coolly at Rífa, Yuuto stated thus with a sharp-edged, intimidating voice.
When did he first notice it? The dangerous beast lurking deep within his heart that, when let loose, could be used to effortlessly overwhelm and intimidate those around him.
At first it had only manifested in times of extreme anger, and he hadn’t been able to control it, but around the time he had returned to Yggdrasil, he had gained some control over it.
He consciously focused and released this power; the Conqueror’s Aura.
“M-Mm... W-Well, i-it is as you say.”
It worked effectively and Rífa was visibly unnerved and taken aback. It was an aura that intimidated even the Sword Clan patriarch, Fagrahvél, and her Maidens of the Waves.
However powerful Rífa was as a twin-runed Einherjar, having been raised as a sheltered princess, it was evidently too much for her to handle. The only thing left for him to do was push his advantage.
“There are three conditions to the surrender. First, Your Majesty will become my second formal wife,” Yuuto said and held up his index finger.
He had already cleared the details with Fagrahvél. This marriage would be a political marriage—a marriage in name only. Whether or not it would be consummated would be entirely up to Rífa.
The marriage itself would only be to acquire the authority of the þjóðann. Considering the importance of marriage to women, he felt a tad guilty about it, but from a strategic standpoint it was non-negotiable.
“Th-That will be fine. I am the one who proposed it after all.”
Although her expression was still tense, Rífa appeared to have recovered somewhat and nodded.
After confirming this, Yuuto held up his second finger.
“Second, formally issuing the rescinding of the Steel Clan subjugation order throughout Yggdrasil.”
“That’s a perfectly understandable term, yes.”
“And the all-important third condition.”
Yuuto prefaced his statement as he held up his third finger.
“We do not believe the Steel Clan subjugation order was at Your Majesty’s behest. Our belief is that the Spear Clan patriarch, Hárbarth, is the one behind the scheme. As such, we, the Steel Clan, demand the head of Hárbarth for his responsibility in orchestrating this entire incident!”
Well, how will you respond now? Yuuto quietly thought to himself as a smirk crept across his face.
The most troublesome aspect of a negotiation tended to be when the strong party tried to force through terms. Meaning, Yuuto determined that the best course of action would be to simply demand the head of the enemy leader.
Surely they couldn’t accept this condition. This particular demand was little more than a bluff to gain the upper hand in the negotiations, but—
“Understood. That’s all acceptable.”
“Huh...?”
Yuuto was left gaping in surprise as Rífa easily accepted the terms without the faintest sign of hesitation. He struggled to comprehend what had just happened.
Regardless, that was how the surrender negotiations between the Steel Clan and the empire concluded.
“So that’s the Black One.”
In a corner of Valaskjálf Palace, Hárbarth spat out those words and quirked his lips in a smile.
He was an old man with his hair devoid of color and his face heavily lined with age. A vertical scar from a sword wound covered what had been his left eye, but the remaining eye had a predatory gleam worthy of a bird of prey, showing its owner’s spirit remained undiminished.
“Facing him in person was something else entirely. He has a frighteningly distinguished air. It’s hard to believe he’s still a boy.”
While the panic had been an act, he had, in fact, felt intimidated.
Though Hárbarth now manipulated the levers of power within the empire, in his youth he had been through his share of life-and-death situations. He had faced off against individuals worthy of being called heroes and, at times, fought them. Even then, he had never seen anyone with a Conqueror’s Aura of that power.
“An aura worthy of the one the oracle Völva had prophesied would end the empire.”
Hárbarth let out a self-deprecating snort.
That meeting had signaled the end of the two hundred year history of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire at the hands of the Black One. As one who had spent his adult life securing power within the empire, he couldn’t help but feel some sadness.
Only some, of course.
“Hrmph. As expected, he wants my head.”
Holding his hand to his throat, Hárbarth laughed drily.
It was well within his expectations. The Steel Clan had made Fagrahvél the reginarch’s child and absorbed the Sword Clan. Once they had heard that Hárbarth was the effective ruler of the empire, and considering the overwhelming advantage in power enjoyed by the Steel Clan, it was easy to guess that they would demand his head.
“Well, while this certainly throws my plans into disarray, it will not be an issue in the long run. It simply means I’ll have to move more quickly.”
Two days had passed since the Steel Clan’s meeting with the þjóðann Sigrdrífa.
“So this is really Hárbarth?”
In a corner of Sigtuna’s palace, Yuuto, with a faintly disgusted grimace, asked Fagrahvél.
His eyes were directed at a clay pot she held. Inside of it was the severed head of the Spear Clan patriarch and High Priest, Hárbarth, preserved in alcohol.
The sight was a touch too macabre and Yuuto backed away after giving it a quick look.
“...Yes, there’s no mistaking him.”
Even Fagrahvél had a sour expression on her face, but after peering intently into the pot, nodded.
“Any chance it’s a double?” Yuuto asked as he turned away from the pot.
“It’s noooot possible. It wooould be quite a feat to find another maaaan who’s this oooold.”
Adding to the explanation with her usual languid speech was Bára, who shook her head from side to side.
She, too, was another who knew Hárbarth, and had declared it to be him.
“Ahh, I suppose. All right then.”
Yuuto nodded as though content.
Here in Yggdrasil, the food situation was much more precarious and the medicine far more primitive than in 21st-century Japan. This was a world where the average life expectancy was under fifty, with people dying at an age that a modern Japanese person would consider late middle-age at best. While he didn’t know just exactly how old Hárbarth had been, he’d heard that he’d lived to an almost eerily old age.
Realistically, it would be impossible to find someone that was both old enough and similar-looking enough to Hárbarth to fool someone like Fagrahvél who knew his features well.
“Which means this head is without a doubt his,” he muttered to himself.
However, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being played in some way. Things simply seemed to be going too well.
“Are you finished with your confirmation?”
Sigrdrífa, who had been sitting in a chair a short distance away, asked in a casual tone.
She had been holed up in her room until yesterday, noting that it had been that time of month, but she seemed to be doing better today, the color having returned to her cheeks.
“Yes, it seems to be Hárbarth himself,” Yuuto stated coldly.
“I have also issued a decree rescinding the Steel Clan subjugation order.”
“We have also confirmed that.”
Yuuto had, indeed, confirmed the contents of the tablets pressed with the þjóðann’s sigil. He had also gotten a report from Kristina that the announcement had been made before an assembled crowd in Glaðsheimr.
“Then all that’s left is... our marriage, I believe.”
“Mm...”
The ease with which everything proceeded continued to nag at Yuuto. He felt there was something behind all of this, but he couldn’t say for certain what precisely that was.
Though, given that Hárbarth was dead, perhaps he was overthinking it? Was it that he was just anxious because everything seemed to be going too well?
“I look forward to having a long life at your side, my husband.”
The þjóðann smiled faintly toward him. The marriage was something she had proposed. They had swallowed all of the other conditions. There simply wasn’t enough reason to decline. To not do it now would simply be an embarrassment.
“...Yes, I look forward to it, too.”
Yuuto couldn’t help but feel manipulated by something, but for now he could only nod in agreement.
“Phew. That’s the first step done.”
In the room provided to her, Sigrdrífa—or rather, the spirit of Hárbarth that lurked within her—smirked.
His body had died, but his soul remained. He had managed to achieve this by possessing Sigrdrífa’s body.
“Still, a woman’s body is a bothersome thing indeed.”
It was true that it had been that time of the month until just yesterday. It had taken quite a bit of effort to deal with, and so long as he inhabited this body, he felt everything she felt, meaning that he had endured that pain.
The constant pain brought with it a sort of depression. The past few days had been awful.
“While I may have had no choice, I really do need to switch to another body. Dealing with this regularly would be much too troublesome, not to mention unpleasant.”
He snorted in self-mockery.
This body was only a temporary dwelling. His true objective was Sigrdrífa’s child.
While Hárbarth had indeed controlled the empire, he had been so old he could keel over at any time. His frail body no longer moved as he wished, he was often sick, and he had cowered from death practically every day he lived.
So he had wondered...
The power that let him possess small animals. His power as an Einherjar. If used correctly, perhaps it could bring him eternal life.
It was true that he couldn’t possess conscious people, but he had confirmed he could possess those who were in a coma, like Rífa, and also newborn babies.
If he could possess a child between himself and Rífa, he could gain both the twin runes and the title of þjóðann. In effect, he could quite easily gain ability and authority along with renewed youth. With those things, he could reign over Yggdrasil as its absolute and immortal ruler. That was the true extent of Hárbarth’s plan.
“I would have preferred to gain a body that carried my blood, but alas.”
If he were to reside within the body of a child between the reginarch and the þjóðann, he would still have a strong claim to the throne. Her royal bloodline gave him the legitimacy that Hárbarth so desperately required to make full use of his pawn—her child.
Indeed, if necessary, he could very well have the child in the First Queen’s stomach quietly disposed of down the line.
“But to think I would have to lie with a man... Better to have lain with an empty shell of a woman, but I suppose I’m in no position to be choosy.”
With that, she stood from her bed. The night had grown late. Leaving her room, she headed to the reginarch’s bedchambers.
“Y-Your Majesty! Wh-What are you here for?”
A bodyguard stationed in front of the room asked in a panicked tone.
To the denizens of Yggdrasil, the þjóðann was a living god, an object of veneration, even worship. It was understandable to panic when coming face to face with such a personage.
“Surely there is only one reason to visit one’s future husband.”
“Ah? Ah! Of course, my apologies!”
With a respectful bow, the guard allowed her entry into the room.
While the room was a guest room, like the room provided to the þjóðann, it was large and well-appointed. Waiting there was not just the reginarch, but also a blonde-haired beauty.
“Y-Your Majesty?! At this time of night?” the blonde-haired beauty asked in surprise.
“As I told the guard, I’m here to consummate our relationship.”
“...You’re in a bit of a hurry,” the reginarch said with a dry laugh.
Hárbarth was aware of this, but he couldn’t stand the inconveniences of a female body. His honest desire was to get a new body as soon as possible, but of course, that couldn’t be said out loud.
“I’ve been frail since the day of my birth. Frankly, I don’t know when I might collapse from illness. I’d like to bear a child as quickly as possible to make sure my line continues.”
“Mm, I see. Felicia, could you leave us for a bit?”
“Oh?! B-Big Brother?! But...”
Felicia anxiously looked over at the reginarch, who simply shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s not a problem. Surely the þjóðann herself wouldn’t do much in a situation like this. Oh, also, I have something I’d like to ask of you.”
He gestured her over and whispered something in her ear.
Sigrdrífa—Hárbarth, couldn’t hear what was being said, but...
“As you wish, Big Brother.”
The blonde-haired beauty nodded as though she was fully satisfied with his explanation, and began to approach.
“Your Majesty. Begging your pardon, but I will have to check you for weapons.”
“Mm, very well.”
She nodded magnanimously.
Since assassination wasn’t the objective, her body carried no weapons.
Given it wasn’t his own body, he felt no shame. No matter how thoroughly the woman checked, it was of no consequence.
“...I’m done. My apologies. Forgive me for the intrusion, Your Majesty.”
The search finished without issue, and the blonde-haired beauty bowed her head.
“Not to worry, I understand you’re only doing your duty.”
“Thank you. Then I will see myself out.”
The blonde-haired beauty bowed once again and left the room.
After seeing her out, Sigrdrífa—Hárbarth—sat down next to the reginarch and leaned into him.
“We’re finally alone.”
The moment the words left her lips, Hárbarth felt a shiver of revulsion, but he kept it from showing in Rífa’s expression. He then placed her hand over the reginarch’s.
As a man with power, Hárbarth had seen countless women flock to him. For the moment he mimicked their mannerisms as best he could.
“Now, hurry and make me yours. With that, you will be the next þjóðann in both name and fact.”
Those sweet words were uttered without delay.
So far as Hárbarth was aware, men had an endless appetite for power. This was particularly true for those that climbed their way upward. For someone of that sort, the words ‘the next þjóðann’ must surely be the ultimate bait.
This was a man who had gone from patriarch of a tiny clan to a reginarch controlling vast swaths of territory. Hárbarth was certain that he was that sort of man, but...
“Now, surely there’s no hurry. We haven’t had an opportunity to just talk. Why don’t we take the time to reminisce a little?” he said toward her, a gentle smile on his face.
Internally, Hárbarth clicked his tongue in frustration.
Even if he was the greatest information gatherer in Yggdrasil, he didn’t have the fine details of what Sigrdrífa had done during her stay in Iárnviðr.
To keep from slipping up on such matters, he had done his best to avoid the subject as much as possible, but the bothersome topic had finally come up.
“For my part, I should prefer to speak of the future rather than the past.”
For the moment, he tried to change the subject. Given that he had assumed the reginarch was blinded by ambition, he had been caught off guard.
“Ah, when you make your triumphant visit to the Holy Capital, I’ll make sure to show you around Valaskjálf Palace myself. No doubt it’s far greater than anything you’ve ever seen.”
“Oh?”
It would seem that remark had drawn his interest. Hárbarth relaxed himself in relief. That had been a close one.
There was no time for him to lose on bearing a suitable child, the risks of a misstep were much too high.
“Once I am your wife, it will all belong to you. How about it? Does that not please you?”
With those words, Hárbarth had somehow managed to get the conversation back on the topic he intended for it.
He considered for a short moment if he should perhaps be more assertive and make the first move. As he was doing so, however...
“It’s true, I’m looking forward to it, but... Ah, seems she’s here.”
The door to the bedchambers opened with a sudden creaking noise.
The one who stepped into the room, with a silver-haired beauty in tow, was a young woman who was the spitting image of Sigrdrífa.
“Your Majesty, my wife wishes to make your acquaintance.”
Quirking his lips into a grin, Yuuto waved his hand over at Mitsuki and introduced her.
She had arrived in Sigtuna earlier that afternoon. Mitsuki had told him that she had a strange connection with Sigrdrífa.
Because of that, he believed that he might be able to learn something by having the two of them closely interact. Though he was worried about her pregnancy, she was in a much more stable condition now, so he’d had her summoned to Sigtuna. Further, rather than waiting alone for Yuuto to return to Gimlé, she would feel more relaxed and avoid undue stress by being with her husband.
All in all, they had reasoned it would be better for the child in the long term.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty. I am Mitsuki, Yuuto Suoh’s wife.”
Mitsuki approached Sigrdrífa and lightly bowed her head.
Looking at them, they really did look alike. No one would question it if they had been described as twin sisters.
“M-Mm. A pleasure to meet you. I had heard rumors, but I’m surprised to note just how much you resemble me.”
It seemed that this situation hadn’t been accounted for, and Sigrdrífa’s statement, as a result, sounded somewhat panicked.
Got you, Yuuto thought to himself. He was now certain that the Sigrdrífa in front of him was an imposter.
This wasn’t their first meeting.
While this was their first meeting in person, they had met on countless occasions in their dreams.
He had been worried that whoever was controlling Sigrdrífa would try to bluff their way out of the situation, but they stepped right into his trap.
‘I had heard rumors.’
The real Sigrdrífa would never have said that.
Hearing this, Yuuto glanced over at Mitsuki. She, too, nodded.
“Your Majesty, it’s not just our appearance that’s alike.”
“Mm?”
Sigrdrífa furrowed her brow in suspicion. Evidently unable to read their intentions, she seemed a bit on guard.
There were no problems with what she had said, though.
“You see, I bear the twin runes as well.”
“...Huh?” Sigrdrífa simpered out.
The fact that this came as a revelation belied she wasn’t the real Sigrdrífa.
“Phew... Ah!”
Mitsuki closed her eyes briefly, then reopened them with a short exhale. In her eyes shined runes in the shape of birds.
“Wha?!”
Sigrdrífa’s expression twisted in shock. But that wasn’t the end of it.
“Gwah!”
As though reacting to Mitsuki’s twin runes, sword-shaped golden runes appeared in Sigrdrífa’s eyes.
Then—
“Ah!”
“Mrraah! Gaaaaah?!”
The pair covered their eyes in unison.
Mitsuki gritted her teeth and bore it, but it appeared to take Sigrdrífa completely by surprise, as she screamed and curled up.
Resonance of the Twin Runes. It was a mysterious effect that had happened in their dreams.
Hot!
Sigrdrífa woke from the sudden heat coursing through her body. Ásmegin flowed through her like a raging current. She briefly wondered what had happened, but then recalled where she had felt this before.
Yes, when she had met Mitsuki in her dreams.
Gaaaaaaah!
Unexpectedly, she heard a raspy, creepy scream from within her. A glance showed Hárbarth writhing in agony. She felt a sense of satisfaction, then quickly felt that something was off.
Where am I...?
Looking around, she saw the colorless shade of the Valaskjálf Palace gardens. It was a familiar sight. This was Sigrdrífa’s own mind.
Why are you here?! Hárbarth! Sigrdrífa shouted with an intense rush of anger.
To be trampled on by this ugly fossil in reality was bad enough; to have him step into this last sanctuary within herself drove her into an incandescent fury.
Gaaaah! N-Nrrgh?! That woke you?! Hárbarth spat out angrily, having noticed that she had awoken.
She didn’t know what was happening, but Sigrdrífa realized something was clearly wrong. All the while, further rage was pouring out from her like an erupting volcano.
Get out! This is my mind!
With an angry shout, she firmly rejected him.
But Hárbarth, having recovered from his agonized writhing, appeared to have regained his composure and smirked at her.
I refuse. This body is mine now.
Damn you, if you won’t leave, I’ll force you... Mrgh?!
As she tried to grab Hárbarth, Sigrdrífa realized that her body—her consciousness—was bound by something that appeared to be strings of light.
This is... Gleipnir?!
Heheh, as you could very well have woken up, I made sure you were securely tied down between layers of my seiðrs.
Hárbarth let out a vile laugh.
Gleipnir was a seiðr that Sigrdrífa was particularly good at wielding, one used to bind the supernatural. Even an Einherjar would have their powers tied down by this seiðr, but that was only true of your average Einherjar.
Hrmph! Who do you think I am? Do you possibly believe your seiðr is able to hold my twin runes back?
With that, Rífa tried to channel her ásmegin to tear at the binds of light—
Mrgh?!
However, she was shocked to find that the ásmegin she wielded much like an extension of herself refused to respond. No matter how many times she tried, there was no sign of it gathering.
Wh-What is going...?!
Bwahahaha!
Upon seeing Sigrdrífa’s panic, Hárbarth cackled in twisted enjoyment. It was an awful sound that assaulted her ears. She tried to tear the binds from herself in her rage, but they refused to move.
As Sigrdrífa struggled, Hárbarth quirked his lips in a smirk.
You’re wasting your time. As I’ve said, this body is mine. As are your twin runes.
Urrrgh!
Sigrdrífa growled at Hárbarth, lashing at him with her rage.
Just what had happened to her?
She had been collaborating with Mitsuki to summon Yuuto, and having overexerted herself, had exhausted her power—
And that’s where her memory stopped.
From what she gathered, it seemed that during that time, this horrid wretch of an old man had taken over her body. A renewed sense of rage bubbled up within her.
Damn you! Remove these bonds! Remove them at once! Sigrdrífa shrieked angrily, but Hárbarth merely gave her a cold, almost pitying smile.
Hrmph. Why would I obey, hm? Without the title of þjóðann or your power, all you are is a spoiled brat. You should know your place.
Mrrrph!
Upon hearing his statement of vulgar dismissal, tears began to fall from Sigrdrífa’s eyes.
She wasn’t afraid. She was simply mortified. After all, it was true.
Yes, all she had was her title as þjóðann and the twin runes. Both of those things had been given to her by her ancestors. They were not something she had acquired on her own.
And now, without those things, she had nothing.
A body wracked with albinism. The anomalous appearance of having white hair and red eyes. A weak constitution that meant she couldn’t even walk under the glare of the sun.
Her personality? Self-centered, selfish, arrogant. There was nothing to praise her for in that department. She was well aware of all of that.
Now, back to sleep you go.
Hárbarth approached and extended his hand to her. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t move.
Someone! Someone help me, please! Fagrahvél!
She called out for her milk-sister, the one person who had always helped her. Yes, she was the one who had made Sigrdrífa’s life bearable. Though even if Fagrahvél had the rune of kings, she couldn’t imagine that Fagrahvél would be able to save her here.
Still, she wanted her help.
Give up. No one will come this far to save you.
Hárbarth’s hand grabbed Sigrdrífa’s face. She felt her strength being drained, her consciousness slipping away. She was afraid. She felt that if she went to sleep now she would never wake up. She didn’t want everything to end here, not at this age, not now.
Help me! Yuuto!
In a last gasp, she called out the name of the man she loved!
It was at that moment...
“Fimbulvetr!”
A voice she’d never heard before rang out, and the light binding Sigrdrífa’s body tore away.
Having regained her freedom, Sigrdrífa refused to tolerate this man grasping at her heart a moment longer.
You have been here long enough! Begone you knave!
With her shout, power flowed from her spirit and lashed out at Hárbarth.
Gwah?! D-Damn yoooou!
With a dying curse, Hárbarth’s spirit was blasted into the air and eventually faded away.
“Mm... where... am I...?”
When Sigrdrífa opened her eyes, there was an unfamiliar ceiling and two familiar faces peering down at her. Their eyes were full of concern and anxiety.
It seemed she was being held by the man she loved.
“Ahh, such fondly remembered faces, together again.”
She honestly wondered if she was in heaven. She knew intuitively that this was real, but that was how she felt.
Sigrdrífa was the þjóðann and was thus a “special” individual. Because of that, everyone looked upon her with a certain aloofness. There was a certain emotional distance she could never close.
In spite of that, however, there was a warmth in the gazes of those present who looked upon her. It was a comforting warmth, and she felt her heart glow.
“Lord Yuuto, it seems you were able to safely return to these lands.”
“Ah?!”
Yuuto and Mitsuki briefly widened their eyes as if in surprise, then their faces broke out in happy smiles.
“Lady Rífa, it’s been a while. Since your visit to Iárnviðr, in fact.”
“Mm, indeed. Now, where am I? It doesn’t appear to be Valaskjálf,” Sigrdrífa asked, turning her eyes to her surroundings and glancing around.
It was a room she’d never seen before.
“We’re in Sigtuna.”
“Mm? Ah, so we’re in Sword Clan territory. Is Fagrahvél here?”
“Oh, I’ll go get her!”
The girl who looked just like her, Mitsuki, jumped up and hurriedly left the room.
Yuuto watched her leave, then asked the question that had been on his mind ever since his return to Yggdrasil.
“May I ask? How did you bring me back to this world?”
“Hm? Hrrm... Honestly, I don’t recall. My memories from then to now are completely blank.”
“I... see.”
“But before I awoke, I saw that Hárbarth was infesting my mind. He, no doubt, took over my body and was doing as he wished. Such an irritating man.”
Sigrdrífa spat out the name as though it were poison.
Yuuto, meanwhile, frowned apologetically.
“Seems I asked too much of you, I’m sorry.”
“Worry not, it’s over now. As you’re here, I take it you won that war? Are those we shared a stew pot with doing well?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
“That gladdens my heart. It would be nice to see them again.”
“A few of them are around. Shall I call them?”
“That can wait. For now, tell me what happened after I lost consciousness.”
“All right.”
So, Sigrdrífa learned of recent events from Yuuto and found herself thoroughly surprised.
“Remarkable! Winter already approaches! Such a long time to sleep. In that sense, I suppose I should thank Hárbarth? Though, I have no intention of doing so.”
She snorted in displeasure.
It was true that she was alive thanks to him, but her irritation outweighed all else. She couldn’t help but feel that old man had brought nothing but misfortune to her.
“Still, who was it that cast that Fimbulvetr?”
Without that, she would have been thrown back into a deep sleep.
She hadn’t taught Fimbulvetr to Mitsuki though, and Felicia clearly didn’t have the power to undo Hárbarth’s seiðrs.
“Ah, well, you were obviously not yourself and someone else was controlling you. I called her in as she is easily the most qualified person for the job.”
As he spoke, Yuuto pointed to a beautiful dark-skinned, silver-haired woman standing behind Mitsuki who gave off a bewitching and captivating aura. Her appearance, and her skill with seiðrs that allowed her to wield Fimbulvetr, matched the rumors Sigrdrífa had heard.
“Could it be... Are you Sigyn?”
“Yes. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty.”
The dark-skinned beauty, Sigyn, bowed respectfully.
Sigrdrífa gazed at her in wonderment as the pieces clicked into place.
Sigyn was a heroine who had served as patriarch of the Panther Clan despite being a woman, one of the five greatest seiðr practitioners in all of Yggdrasil, known as the Witch of Miðgarðr.
“You had taught me that Fimbulvetr was a seiðr that would free one from all limitations.”
Yuuto quirked his lips up in a cocky smile and closed one eye in a wink.
Yes, she recalled saying something to that effect to him.
“Heh, even Hárbarth could do nothing when faced with you!”
While Sigrdrífa hadn’t quite grasped the situation, it was that clever old bastard after all. No doubt he had used all the tools and schemes at his disposal to advance his machinations.
Yuuto had smashed those schemes to pieces by playing an overwhelming hand that contained an impossible combination: the resonance of the twin runes and Sigyn, the Witch of Miðgarðr.
It was true this victory was due to the power of other people, but no king truly rules alone. It was an accomplishment made possible by the charisma to draw that sort of talent to him, that is, the character of a conqueror.
Looking at him closely, he had grown taller since she saw him six months ago, and he was far more distinguished than he had been.
As to be expected of the man I fell in love with, Sigrdrífa thought, as she opened her mouth to speak.
“It seems you’ve grown quite a bit in the time I hadn’t seen you. Swallowing up the Panther Clan, the Sword Clan, and now the empire itself. Things have truly turned out as the prophecy claimed.”
“The agreement wasn’t by your will, Lady Rífa. Are you all right with it? Though I guess we’ve come too far to stop now.”
Again Yuuto looked apologetic, and Sigrdrífa burst out laughing. The conqueror of Yggdrasil was such an honest and honorable young man, which is why she fell for him.
Sigrdrífa gazed intently at Yuuto before going on to make her grand statement.
“That’s quite all right. The empire has served its purpose. From here on, the age of the Steel Clan begins. Let us go to the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr. Step proudly through its gate as its new master.”
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