Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria - Volume 18 - Chapter 1

ACT I

“I’m leaving the kids in your care, Mitsuki.” Yuuto did his best to sound cheerful as his wife boarded the carriage. He was about to set off to stop the forces of Nobunaga’s Flame Clan. Mitsuki had no doubt already heard that the Flame Clan was fielding an army of over a hundred thousand men, which was why Yuuto had put on a false air of nonchalance in an attempt to reassure her.

“Mmhm. Be careful out there, Yuu-kun. Make sure you come home alive.”

“Well, you’re the one setting off, you know.” Yuuto smiled teasingly and nitpicked at Mitsuki’s comment.

Mitsuki and the children would be departing from the Holy Capital with its residents and make their way toward the Silk Clan capital of Útgarðar. While she had no abilities that were of use in war, she had a vital role to play as a body-double for the late Sigrdrífa. While the people of the capital had, for the moment, accepted the need to evacuate, there was a high probability that some of them would be overcome with a longing for home and change their minds on the way. The presence of Sigrdrífa, who was beloved—even worshipped—by the people of Glaðsheimr, was the most effective measure to ensure that they continued on their journey.

“Hey! Don’t tease me when I’m being serious! I’m saying you need to come back to us!” Mitsuki puffed out her cheeks in a pout. Though she was now a mother of two, she still had a tendency to become flustered from even the slightest of prodding. It was precisely because Yuuto wanted to see her react like she was that he couldn’t help but tease her. He found that urge to be particularly strong when he was about to set off for war, perhaps because her expression was what brought him a sense of normalcy.

“Yeah, I’ll be coming back to you. I know how hard it is to be left behind.”

The losses of many people close to him, such as his own mother, Sigrdrífa, and Skáviðr, had left their scars on Yuuto’s psyche. He wanted to do everything he could to prevent his wife, children, and sworn family from experiencing that same pain.

“Do you swear?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

Mitsuki stretched her arm out from the carriage window and held up her pinky. Yuuto nodded and hooked his own pinky to hers.

“That’s a pinky swear, and if you break your promise, then you’ll have to swallow a thousand needles...” Mitsuki had been shaking her arm in tune with the little song, but her words caught in her throat at the end. Her eyes had filled with tears. No doubt she was worried about his safety and didn’t want to leave his side. Yuuto felt the same way.

“I promised, so I’ll make sure to keep it. Have I ever broken a promise?” Yuuto asked, squeezing Mitsuki’s pinky with his own.

“Lots of times.”

“Wha?! Wait!” Yuuto felt a sense of panic well up inside him upon receiving an unexpected answer. Yuuto thought he had done a pretty good job of keeping the promises he’d sworn to Mitsuki.

“You were always late when we were supposed to meet somewhere. I suddenly lost touch with you too. I was really worried about you...”

“Well, um, uh...” Yuuto knew he was at a disadvantage and mumbled nervously. As a patriarch, there were plenty of times when he couldn’t set aside his responsibilities to contact her. When things had gotten truly desperate, he had gone off to war without telling her. Since Yggdrasil was a land where one could never know what would happen in a conflict, no doubt those who had to wait on the sidelines were overwhelmed with concern.

“You’ve always kept the important promises though. You came home safely like you said, after all.” She was likely referring to that particular promise in the past tense because she was talking about how he had returned to Japan—to her side—after he had been transported to Yggdrasil.

“Which is why I’m going to trust you again, Yuu-kun... I believe in you, okay?”

“Yeah.” This time, Yuuto nodded solemnly.

“Okay.” Mitsuki finally seemed to have sorted out her own feelings on the matter and let go of his pinky. Still, there was a hint of anxiety on her features.

“It’ll be fine, Big Sister Mitsuki. He has an Einherjar at his side. In the worst case, I’ll pick up Big Brother and carry him to safety,” Felicia said reassuringly, patting her generous bust.

“Don’t carry me. I can run on my own,” Yuuto retorted, his brow furrowed. There was something embarrassing about the thought of being carried around by a woman. It had already been four years since he’d come to Yggdrasil, and he had trained every day over those four years. Even if he wasn’t at an Einherjar’s level, he at least felt he was more fit than your average soldier.

“I’ll leave him in your care, Felicia,” Mitsuki said, squeezing Felicia’s hand for emphasis.

“Rest assured that I’ll keep him safe,” Felicia replied, returning the squeeze with a look of determination. It seemed Yuuto’s unnecessary little remark had escaped the pair’s notice.

With an apologetic clearing of his throat, Jörgen, the Steel Clan’s Assistant Second and Wolf Clan patriarch, addressed the three: “Ahem. Father, Mother, it’s about time we departed.”

He had been serving as the commander of the city’s garrison in Yuuto’s absence, but now that Yuuto had returned, Jörgen was now in command of the migrant caravan. It had been a choice made based on Jörgen’s remarkable abilities in coordinating logistics and administration.

“Ah, right. Sorry about that.”

Most of the migrant caravan had already set off. Without Sigrdrífa’s carriage among them, no doubt the people might start to wonder if they’d been duped.

“I’ll catch you later, Mitsuki.”

“Yup. See you later, Yuu-kun.”

“Ephy, I’m counting on you to take care of Mitsuki and the kids.”

“Yes, leave them to me.” Ephelia, who was aboard the carriage as Mitsuki’s lady-in-waiting, nodded respectfully.

It had been two years since he had found her in the slave market of Iárnviðr, and she was now in the middle of her growth spurt. With her greater height and longer hair, she was starting to become quite the beautiful young woman. She also showed a level of calm and resourcefulness that belied her delicate appearance. The various hardships she had experienced throughout her early life likely contributed to this. She was also very close to Mitsuki. Yuuto couldn’t think of a better lady-in-waiting for her.

“Right then, off you go.”

Yuuto called to the carriage driver. In response, the driver cracked his whip and the carriage set off. He watched the carriage grow smaller until he could no longer see it. Once the carriage was out of sight, Yuuto looked down at his pinky and murmured, “You’ll always be the place I want to go home to. I’ve always been able to do my best because I was always wanting to make it back to you. That feeling hasn’t changed. Not then, and not now.”

He was about to face the infamous Oda Nobunaga. He was certain that the journeys that lay ahead of him would be arduous. Even then, Yuuto felt he would be able to bear it because of the promise he had just made to Mitsuki.

“Still, over a hundred thousand... He’s blown my estimates clear out of the water.”

After seeing Mitsuki off, Yuuto returned to his office in the Valaskjálf Palace to determine how best to deal with Nobunaga. He had no idea how Nobunaga had pulled off the feat of gathering, arming, feeding, and supplying such an enormous army, but there was no use denying reality. The simple fact was that Nobunaga had those forces at his disposal. He needed to base his strategy formation around that.

“Tch. All we can muster is a mere thirty thousand...”

While he would have been able to match Nobunaga in sheer numbers if he had conscripted civilians to fight for him, Yuuto had consciously ruled out that option. The Steel Clan’s army was a standing army—a professional force made up of trained, full-time soldiers. Even when he had incorporated forces from the clans the Steel Clan had absorbed, he had taken only those with combat experience or those who wished to become soldiers and given them the requisite training.

This wasn’t a choice driven by sentimental concerns such as not wanting to send farmers off to war, but rather because the Steel Clan Army was supported by a number of overly advanced technologies, both in terms of tactics and in terms of equipment. Compared to a largely untrained peasant army, a force filled with professional soldiers was vastly superior in terms of combat ability, speed, and organizational discipline—the last of which was key to taking full advantage of Yuuto’s complicated tactics. On top of that, because a peasant militia was traditionally sent home after every war, he couldn’t avoid having some of that information and technology leak out into the world; something he needed to prevent at all costs. These concerns had led Yuuto to decide to field a more restrictive standing army instead.

It was true that numbers were an important aspect of war, but Yuuto had overcome numerical disadvantages countless times by making the most of his modern knowledge. He had executed risky—even reckless—tactics countless times, and in his experience, Yuuto preferred to have a smaller, dependable force of professional soldiers who could be counted upon to execute his orders. There was little merit, in his eyes, to having a larger but more unpredictable force filled with peasant soldiers. Even if he chose to start using conscripted peasant soldiers at this point, it was likely he wouldn’t be able to give them much in the way of training, and their introduction would simply throw his current army into chaos, ruining the advantages held by the Steel Clan’s forces.

“On the other hand, it seems like he’s gone ahead and gathered numbers, even if it meant throwing away the advantages of fielding an army exclusively made up of professional soldiers.”

It was simply not possible for all one hundred thousand of Nobunaga’s soldiers to be properly trained professional soldiers. That was clear from the fact that it had taken Nobunaga’s army a long time to move from their staging ground, the former Spear Clan Capital of Mímir. Nobunaga had probably spent that time instilling the bare minimum discipline and training required for the conscripts to function as a military unit. The reports from the Vindálf operatives who had infiltrated Mímir had indicated as much.

“Last time was overwhelming enough... This time, however, they outnumber us by more than three to one. It’s quite a daunting difference,” Felicia stated and furrowed her brow in thought.

Yuuto could initially only muster a dry laugh at the comment, but he responded soon after. “If they were only at Yggdrasil’s technology level, I’d have ways to deal with them.”

Unfortunately, Nobunaga’s knowledge enabled the Flame Clan to use technology and tactics several thousand years ahead of the typical clan of Yggdrasil, albeit the Flame Clan were still not as advanced as the Steel Clan. They had steel, stirrups, proper discipline, tactics, and even farming technology.

When it came to military matters, Yuuto was well aware that Nobunaga’s superior experience as a warlord dwarfed his own abilities. Yuuto wasn’t such a blind optimist that he believed he could defeat the conqueror of the Warring States Period while being outnumbered so significantly.

“I suppose we won’t have any choice but to hole up again like last time.”

Since this was an opponent he couldn’t defeat in an open field battle, his only other option was to retreat into a fortification and force a siege. It would take a little over two months for the migrants heading from the Holy Capital to the Silk Clan Capital of Útgarðar to make their way through Álfheimr. He thought he should be able to hold out for at least that long.

“Which I suppose means it’s time to make use of that place,” Felicia said as though the thought had just occurred to her. While Yuuto had been busy with his eastern campaign in the three months since his defeat at the Holy Capital, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t taken any measures against Nobunaga. If anything, since he knew just how powerful an opponent Nobunaga truly was, Yuuto had Jörgen, the garrison commander in the Holy Capital, prepare something while he had been away in the east.

Yuuto’s lips curled up into a playful smile. “I haven’t seen it for myself, but Jörgen says it’s quite the impressive place. Heh, I bet even Nobunaga’s going to be taken aback when he sees it.”

“Oh, there was no need for me to come myself,” Sigrún murmured with a note of disappointment as she gazed over the giant procession of people stretching eastward from the city. She was currently in Nóatún, the clan capital of the Panther Clan, which she now served as the patriarch of. This also just happened to be the first time she’d ever visited the city.

“Father said the people would need my persuasion, so I had prepared myself, but...” She let out a dry laugh. Sigrún had no real awareness of the fact, but as Mánagarmr, Sigrún was perhaps the most famous and admired member of the Steel Clan other than Yuuto. She had been sent to these lands to convince the population to evacuate by leveraging her immense popularity. Yuuto had declared it to be a critical mission, and Sigrún, fully aware of her own shortcomings as an orator, had spent the journey to the city seriously considering the best way to persuade the populace. For that reason, the sight of the people already making their way out of the city had been rather anticlimactic for her.

“I’m impressed with your work as always, Bömburr. Well done.”

“Heh, it’s not as though it were my doing, ma’am.”

Sigrún offered her praise to Bömburr, second-in-command of the Múspell Unit, only for him to respond with a dry chuckle and a shrug of his shoulders.

Bömburr was an oddly portly man, perhaps not someone most would consider to be a member of a hardened group of veterans like the Múspells at first glance. His combat ability was, at best, average among the unit, but no one in the Múspells questioned his right to serve as Sigrún’s second.

Army units were a gathering of people, which meant that administrative and management abilities were an important part of keeping them operating. Bömburr was one of the few, if not the only one of Sigrún’s subordinates, who was more brains than brawn. In times of war, he oversaw the unit’s supplies and logistics, while in times of peace, he managed the unit’s tasks and made sure there were no scheduling conflicts. Without him, the Múspell Unit wouldn’t have functioned anywhere near as effectively as it did. He was, by all accounts, one of the underlying foundations of the unit, and he was one of Sigrún’s most trusted subordinates.

“I just played up the threat of the Flame Clan a little, and they responded quite quickly. The people of this region are well acquainted with raiding nomadic clans. I suppose the threat seemed more real to them.”

Sigrún nodded in understanding. “I see. So foreign invaders are something they’re already quite used to.”

The city had once been heavily pillaged by the Panther Clan, and after being conquered, they had been treated like slaves by the conquering nomads. When the Steel Clan invaded their territory, the Panther Clan leadership had instituted a scorched earth policy, which resulted in their farms being burned to the ground, and during the Steel Clan Encirclement, they had been raided by northern nomadic clans and fallen victim to pillaging once again. Predation by outside enemies was a real, tangible threat in the lives of the people of the Panther Clan, and the rumors about the Flame Clan’s imminent incursion were enough to reopen the old wounds of their collective trauma.

“It also bears remembering that the Steel Clan were the saviors that liberated them from the oppressive rule of the nomadic clans. They have good reason to listen to us,” Hildegard observed as she rubbed her index finger under her nose.

Hildegard, Sigrún’s protégé, was an Einherjar who possessed the rune Úlfhéðinn, the Wolfskin, and despite her youth, she was second only to Sigrún in the Múspell Unit in terms of fighting ability. She had been given Yuuto’s chalice and was now one of his direct children, but because things were still desperate, she had not yet started her own group, instead staying with the Múspells for the time being.

“Is that so? That’s an unexpected boon, then. I had honestly thought this would be quite a difficult task.” Sigrún smiled as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. While she was capable of motivating and urging on her own soldiers, dealing with civilians was a completely different matter. Yuuto had told her that she was the only one who could do the job, but Sigrún had been unsure if she could actually fulfill that role. She was honestly relieved to see that the people of the Panther Clan had already started evacuating on their own.

“Hmm... I feel like you’ve changed a bit, Mother Rún.” Hildegard furrowed her brow for a moment as she looked up at Sigrún’s face.

“Mm?”

“Well, you’ve gotten more expressive, I guess...? You were always a bit dryer in the past.”

“Oh? Yes, Felicia said something similar to me before I left. I can’t tell the difference myself,” Sigrún replied as she patted down her own face.

“Yeah, you’ve definitely changed. I’ve started to learn how to read your expressions. I mean, it used to be that I really couldn’t tell what you were thinking.”

“Oh, you can read me now? That’s a serious problem,” Sigrún murmured solemnly as she rubbed her chin.

“Huh? Really?” Hildegard blinked, as though she couldn’t quite grasp what Sigrún meant. Sigrún mentally shook her head at the fact that Hildegard didn’t understand the significance. Thinking back on it, though, that was perhaps one of Hildegard’s biggest weaknesses.

“If an enemy manages to read my intentions in the middle of battle, then that could mean the difference between life and death in a close match. You’re a good example. I can tell when you’re plotting something.”

“Huh?! Really?!”

“Ah, you really hadn’t noticed?” Sigrún let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed Hildegard by the sleeve.

“Well, this is a good opportunity. It’ll take a while longer for all the people to leave the city. I could use a refresher after all my rest. I’ll give you a little lesson.”

“Oh? Of course! I’m happy to accept!” Hildegard replied in a taunting tone, her eyes gleaming.

“That’s a first. You usually don’t like training with me.”

“Hehe. Well, when I landed that blow on you, Mother Rún, I felt like I’d finally made some real progress. I’ve been feeling really good lately.”

“Oh? Well, that’s something to look forward to.”

“Don’t come crying to me when you lose. Your era’s over, Mother Rún.”

An hour later...

“I’m sorry... I concede. I concede! Can we stop now?!” Hildegard pleaded with tears in her eyes. Sigrún looked down at her and sighed.

“You said you’d made progress, but if anything, you’ve gotten weaker.”

“No! It’s just that you’ve gotten way stronger, Mother Rún! You’re way faster than before!”

“Am I? Hmm... I suppose so. Despite having taken time off, my body feels oddly light, and my movements feel sharper.”

While Sigrún hadn’t noticed it during the sparring, now that she was taking the time to ponder it, it definitely was an odd phenomenon. In the last two weeks, she hadn’t done much in the way of training. That should have meant she would be rusty, but instead, she had been able to move exactly as she had intended—no, better than she had expected. It shouldn’t have been possible.

“You’re way sharper than you were before. Did you maybe figure something out while you were recovering?” Hildegard asked as she blew on her aching palms.

“Am I really that much better? I did figure something out, yes, but it had nothing to do with fighting.”

Sigrún couldn’t help but feel perplexed. Generally, people’s skills didn’t grow exponentially, but rather they grew gradually, in steps. Now, it was certainly possible to come to some sudden realization and for things to comfortably fall into place, but no matter how much she thought about it, Sigrún couldn’t think of anything that would cause such an epiphany for her.

“Considering how much you’ve changed, then that thing’s gotta be what’s triggered it, right?”

“Well, what I realized was that it’s okay to let go of some of my built-up stress occasionally... Ah, now I get it. Because of that discovery, I’ve stopped putting too much effort into my movements.” Sigrún nodded in sudden understanding.

Even her mentor, Skáviðr, had told her, “You’re far too serious. While that is a form of strength itself, if you’re always putting your all into your fighting, then there will come times when you won’t be able to harness your abilities to their full potential. If anything, you need to learn to relax until you truly need your full strength.”

It was something that he had repeatedly tried to teach her. At the time, she hadn’t quite understood what he meant, but now she felt like she grasped what he had been trying to tell her. Sigrún, due to her overly serious personality, had probably been in a state of nervous tension in battle, and when she truly needed to harness her abilities, had dulled her movements due to the excess tension.

“I bet you can beat that Shiba now!” Hildegard said casually, but Sigrún remained skeptical as she glanced down at her hand. “I’m still not totally certain that I could.”

It was true that she had overcome one of her own barriers and grown in strength. However, Shiba was still a little bit beyond her. Sigrún was certain of that.

“Hilda, practice with me a while longer. There are a few things I’d like to try.”

Of course, Sigrún wasn’t the sort to just accept that gap in ability. She had her pride as the Mánagarmr, the Steel Clan’s greatest warrior, after all. Even if she wasn’t at his level just yet, she could still catch him if she tried hard enough.

“N-N-NoooooOooooOooo!”

It was worth noting that Sigrún’s newfound enthusiasm was nothing but a curse for Hildegard, who was the one who had to deal with it.

“It’s gotten so quiet here...” Bruno mumbled to himself as he looked down upon the city of Iárnviðr from the fortress wall. He was a man in his mid-fifties, the sworn younger brother of the late Wolf Clan patriarch Fárbauti, and was currently serving as the head elder of the clan.

“It may as well be a ruin,” Bruno said as tears welled in his eyes. Even though the sun was high in the sky, the main street that connected the city gate to the palace was empty, save for a smattering of soldiers. Not a single resident could be seen. Just one month ago, this same street had been filled with people, and their market stalls had lined each side.

“It was a mistake to make that man patriarch,” Bruno spat bitterly. He had always considered the man untrustworthy from the moment he laid eyes upon him.

It’s that cursed black hair!

Bruno suspected he was some sort of demon. Everything that man proposed was mysterious and new—and very suspicious—in Bruno’s eyes. All of his proposals were innovative and brought wealth and strength to the Wolf Clan, but that was what made them seem all the more questionable to him.

It had been more than fifty years since Bruno had been born into this world. In that time, Bruno had learned through bitter experience that everything always came with a catch. That had turned out to be true once again.

“They’ve all been fooled by that conman.”

It was completely unacceptable. The people of the Wolf Clan had been seduced by the sweet nectar of that brat’s creations and had been convinced to abandon their ancestral lands. Shameful was the only word that came to his mind.

“It’s up to me to stand up to him. I’m the only one who can protect the Wolf Clan—who can protect Iárnviðr!”

He couldn’t leave it up to someone like Jörgen. Bruno cared not a whit about the Oath of the Chalice. For that matter, Bruno had never exchanged Chalices with Suoh-Yuuto or Jörgen. His oath had been to Fárbauti. He had no reason—no duty, in fact—to listen to them.

“Head Elder, the Steel Clan’s Second is calling for you,” one of his subordinates came to him and said apologetically. The subordinate knew that Bruno couldn’t stand her. While Bruno found it incredibly irritating to have to follow the orders of some girl from another clan, the enemy would soon be upon them.

“Tell her I’ll be right over,” Bruno spat out the bitter words and quickly turned to depart. He walked with the grim determination of a man who had steeled himself for the inevitable.

“Princess. The people from Fólkvangr have arrived.”

“I see. That’s a relief.” Linnea let out a sigh upon hearing the report from Cler, one of the Brísingamen. While she knew it wasn’t something she ought to feel as the Second of the Steel Clan, the people of the Horn Clan still held a special place in Linnea’s heart. She was extremely glad to hear that her people had reached the safety of Iárnviðr.

“However, we might have overdone it in playing up the reputation of the Flame Clan. It appears they pushed themselves rather hard on their journey, and they all appear to be quite tired.”

“Ah, yes. While we had no choice in the matter, we did put them into a bit of a panic. I suppose we’re paying the price for that decision now.”

“Yes. I believe so.”

After a moment’s thought, Linnea turned to speak to the man in his mid-fifties that sat across from her at the round table. “Lord Bruno.”

Jörgen was currently stationed at the Holy Capital, leaving Bruno as the Wolf Clan’s representative.

“Yes, what is it?”

“As we agreed upon earlier, we’ll borrow the city’s empty houses to allow them to rest.”

“Yes, I am well aware,” Bruno replied with a frown. He made no attempt to hide his displeasure, making it clear he was only cooperating because he was forced to.

“How dare you! The princess is the Second of the Steel Clan. Even if you are the head elder of His Majesty’s Clan, you’re being far too disrespectful!” Goaded beyond his limit, Cler stood up and shouted at Bruno.

“Please, save me the theatrics. We acknowledged your request. We will ignore the fact that another clan’s people are going to be making a mess of our houses,” Bruno responded, clearly irritated.

“Wha?! You dare to imply the people of the Horn Clan are mere criminals?!”

“Cler, enough!” Linnea immediately stepped in to douse the flames of Cler’s rapidly growing anger. “My apologies for my child’s disrespect. You have my sincere apologies as his parent.” She stood and bowed her head to Bruno.

“Wha?! Princess?! There’s no reason for you to bow your head...”

“Of course he’s not pleased with having another clan’s people making use of his city. If I were in his place, I would feel the same way.”

“That’s... But this is an emergency!”

“Yes, and the Steel Clan doesn’t have the luxury of wasting time infighting during it,” Linnea said flatly.

While most of the people of Iárnviðr had already evacuated and were heading eastward, not everyone had left the city. There were a fair number of people who simply couldn’t bear to abandon the city of their birth. Bruno was essentially the man who was in charge of those remaining. Many of the soldiers present in Iárnviðr also wished to stay put, meaning that currently, Bruno enjoyed high levels of support and authority with the remaining people of the Wolf Clan. Any conflict with Bruno would mean friction with the Wolf Clan members left in the city. The Flame Clan Army was just days away, so she wanted to avoid any internal conflict if it was at all possible.

“...I understand. I accept your reasoning, Princess. You have my apologies, Lord Bruno.” Cler turned to Bruno and lowered his head. It was clear from Cler’s body language, however, that he was doing so reluctantly.

“Hrmph, you stripling. You should learn that hollow apologies will simply irritate the person you’ve offended even further.”

“Wha?! I just... Ngh!”

“No matter. Do as you please with the houses,” Bruno said dismissively and stood to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some fresh air. It’s a bit stifling in here.” Bruno then left the room without so much as turning back.

Of course, Cler wasn’t pleased with that exit. “That attitude! How dare he!” The moment Bruno’s footfall was out of earshot, Cler let out an angry growl, slamming his fist against the desk. With his strength as an Einherjar, the table cracked under the blow. It was a fitting expression of his anger.

“There’s nothing to do about it. We were enemies until a few years ago. There still remain some who can’t accept the new status quo.”

While the Wolf and Horn Clans were now the closest of allies, until Yuuto had appeared, they had long been sworn enemies, constantly fighting for territory along their respective borders. For someone like Bruno, the Horn Clan had been his enemy for most of his life. No doubt he’d lost friends and subordinates to the Horn Clan in those border wars. Even if he understood intellectually that they were now allies, it would be hard for him to accept that fact on an emotional level.

Linnea quickly dismissed Bruno from her mind and switched to the next topic at hand. “Anyway, he approved our request concerning the housing. That’s all that matters, yes? Put that trifle aside and move on. How are things with the Panther and Hoof Clan’s people?” There was a bit of venom in her choice of words, and evidently, that struck a chord with Cler. He chuckled.

“You’re right. We don’t have time to be dealing with trifles.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Regarding the Panther Clan, we just received a letter noting that their people have agreed to begin evacuations.”

“Oh? Wonderful!” Linnea’s façade of calm broke, and she spoke with a bright voice. Even if the news of the Horn Clan’s people hadn’t arrived yet, she was still happy to hear that things were going as planned.

“However, matters are not progressing as well with the Hoof Clan.”

“I see...” Linnea’s expression quickly clouded, and she furrowed her brow.

“It hasn’t been long since the Hoof Clan came under Steel Clan control. They’re proving difficult to convince.”

“...I doubt their patriarch has any intention of persuading his people,” Linnea said with a bitter chuckle, as she recalled the Hoof Clan patriarch’s expression when she explained the plan.

Not everyone under the Steel Clan’s influence was on board with Yuuto’s plans to emigrate. The Hoof Clan were particularly against it. They still regarded Yuuto as the man who had killed their great patriarch, Yngvi, and had caused their decline in power as a result. While they obeyed the Steel Clan due to the sheer gulf in strength, it was easy to imagine that they still harbored conflicting feelings about the arrangement. Children had to follow their parent as per the Oath of the Chalice, but there were still limits. No doubt they planned to pretend to obey and leave things in limbo. In fact, their patriarch might very well be scheming to take over the Steel Clan’s territories once they had left.

“Some people are hopeless.” Linnea sighed and leaned back in her chair. The fact of the matter, though, was that she couldn’t think of any other hands to play. The post station system had already ceased functioning because of the great migration. The only remaining method of communication was a limited number of carrier pigeons. The migration required tracking the movements of hundreds of thousands of people. Even with Linnea’s skills as an administrator, she had her hands full running and managing the situation, and she still had to deal with the Flame Clan Army that was currently in Gimlé.

“Send them a letter urging them to hurry. If they won’t move, then we have no choice. We’ll just have to leave them behind,” Linnea said with resignation and bit down on her lower lip. She wanted to save them, and she was frustrated at the lack of progress they were showing. She also felt guilty about the fact that she might have to leave them behind.

There was only so much she could do, though. If she tried to save everyone, she could very well end up putting them all at risk instead. Rulers had to be prepared to make ruthless sacrifices at times. That was the harsh lesson that Rasmus had used his life to teach her.

“For the moment, let’s deal with the Panther Clan since they’ve already started moving. It’ll take them at least two weeks to get here. The most pressing issue is the Flame Clan Army that’s occupying Gimlé.”

“They’ve yet to move.”

“I see. That’s convenient for us, but they’re certainly taking their time.” Linnea furrowed her brow in suspicion. It was true that she was the one behind the plan to slow down the enemy army by turning Gimlé into a place for treasure hunting, but they should have long since finished gathering the treasure that had been scattered around the city. She couldn’t understand why they were still there. “The enemy general, Shiba, is known for his lightning-fast offensives. I expected him to use the momentum from taking Gimlé and force his armies forward to Iárnviðr.”

Given that she had devoted so much of her time to trying to figure out how to deal with that offensive, she was grateful for the breathing room, but things were going too well. It left her anxious. Her underlying stress showed in her concern.

Cler chuckled at Linnea’s expression. “Well, I’m sure he would have loved to have done so, but it seems your scheme had an effect that you weren’t anticipating, Princess.” He then began to describe what was occurring at Gimlé.

“They really got us this time.” Shiba sighed as he looked at the letters piled up on his desk. They all dealt with the issues that currently plagued the Flame Clan Army. The reason the Flame Clan Army was still in Gimlé despite Nobunaga’s orders to conquer the west was in fact almost entirely due to these issues.

“Big Brother, we’ve got our first reports of deserters.”

“I see... I knew it was going to come soon.” Shiba massaged the bridge of his nose as he listened to his adjutant Masa’s report.

This was all happening because of the treasure hunt that the Steel Clan had sprung upon them. The soldiers who were now unexpectedly rich had started to ask to return home. It was a completely understandable reaction. The reason soldiers fought was that they needed to earn a living. However, they had now acquired enough wealth for their families to live comfortably for years or, in some cases, even decades. If they died in battle, that wealth would vanish. It made complete sense for them to decide that they would prefer to go home and share their newfound wealth with their families rather than head off to a dangerous battlefield. Over half of the army’s soldiers had requested to return home. Shiba couldn’t possibly disregard the issue when the numbers were that high. Then, to make matters worse...

“What of the fighting among the soldiers?”

“No real changes to speak of. Eleven incidents, of which three resulted in murders. We’ve already arrested the murderers and thrown them in jail.”

“...I see.” Shiba sighed with a bitter expression on his face.

The soldiers were all participating in the same war. For fighting to break out between those who had acquired wealth and those that hadn’t was only natural. Currently, the Flame Clan force that was occupying Gimlé was rife with fighting between soldiers who demanded a share of the wealth and those who refused to share, which eventually escalated to physical altercations, and in some cases even resulted in cold-blooded murder. While he had repeatedly issued directives banning fighting between the soldiers, they hadn’t had any noticeable effects. The soldiers were all wary of one another, and the tension in the camp was nearing a dangerous breaking point.

“What can we do to resolve this...?” Shiba scratched at his scalp with some vigor.

Leading an army like this into battle would be suicide. Morale had cratered, and there were constant fights among the soldiers, not to mention outright desertions. It was very likely the unit would completely collapse before they could even engage their enemy.

“They did all of this expecting this outcome, I’d imagine. Frighteningly clever.” In fact, Linnea hadn’t expected her plan to be quite this effective, but Shiba had no way of knowing that. Shiba was increasingly convinced that he would stand no chance against such an intelligent general with his army in this state.

“I don’t think we have any choice but to return home for the moment.”

As he listened to Masa’s recommendation, Shiba agreed with a bitter click of his tongue. “Tch. Yeah, we might have to. Frankly, I misjudged this.”

He had overestimated just how disciplined his army was. It was understandable, given how hard he had drilled and trained them and how well they had followed orders. However, the reality had been far from what he had anticipated. Shiba had expected that he would be able to restore order even if the looting threw the army into temporary disarray, but it had gotten worse with each passing day and was now at a crisis point. It was a rare and painful mistake for him.

“I see now... So this is the weakness of the strong, huh?” Shiba mused.

“Pardon? What does that even mean?”

“Before we set off, Old Man Salk mentioned that to me. He told me that I’m strong—too strong, in fact. Because of that, I supposedly don’t understand how the weak think, and that would eventually catch me off guard. Our current situation is proving to be a perfect example of that.”

“Ah, I see.” Masa nodded at Shiba’s brief explanation. Even Masa, after his long years of serving Shiba, must have noticed that his sworn father was indeed somewhat like that. Evidently, it was something Shiba had missed in himself. He knew that to be true, but he wasn’t sure what he could have done to have noticed or understood it without previously being in the situation he now found himself in. That was extremely frustrating for him.

“That reminds me. Brother Kuuga had insisted we immediately retreat. I should have tried listening to him.” Shiba remembered when he had brushed aside Kuuga’s proposal five days earlier and sighed. At the time, Shiba had thought Kuuga was simply demoralized from his failure at Fort Gashina, but the situation had unfolded exactly as he had warned. Shiba could do nothing but admire his brother’s foresight, and even felt some regret at passing such a harsh judgment on him. “If I order a retreat now, I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it from him,” Shiba said with a scowl.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to bear that.”

“Moreover, even if I did apologize, he wouldn’t forgive me.”

“I could imagine that would be true, yes. Based on his personality, there’s a good chance that he’d hold a grudge over the fact that you used your authority as a reason to override his proposal.”

“Exactly, yeah.” Shiba sighed deeply. Still, he had to tell Kuuga of his decision. He trudged heavily toward Kuuga’s office, but when he finally delivered his message...

“Ah, I see. I do hold the opinion that your delay ended up wasting valuable time, but the situation is still salvageable, if only just barely,” Kuuga replied. There was no sign of blame in his response. If anything, it more closely resembled forgiveness. This reaction seemed utterly impossible to Shiba. For a moment, Shiba couldn’t understand what he had just heard and suspected that he was hearing things.

“Brother, what are you planning? You’re not one to forgive that easily.”

“Oh? Did you want me to insult you? I have no problem spending the next two hours picking apart your arrogance.”

“No, I’ll pass. But I do find your reaction a touch unsettling.”

“Hrmph. Then let me relieve you of that suspicion. I have three requests for you.”

“You want something from me, you say?” Shiba couldn’t help but stare in surprise. This was truly a strange day. By all accounts, he had thought that Kuuga, who resented him with the intensity of a thousand scorned women, would never ask a favor of him.

“Yes. Honestly, I’m at a loss as to how to deal with it. I’m not so foolish as to insult a man I’m about to ask for help from.”

“Makes sense.”

Certainly, Kuuga had made a spectacular error in the siege of Fort Gashina, ignoring Nobunaga’s orders and suffering massive losses as a result. Nobunaga was a harsh but just liege lord, one who would always reward accomplishments and punish mistakes. While Nobunaga was willing to forgive defeats as part of the uncertainty of war, he was extremely harsh when dealing with insubordination. It also bore mentioning that this was a war that would decide who would rule Yggdrasil. There would be some sort of punishment for Kuuga, that much was certain. When viewed objectively, it was very possible that Nobunaga would even consider ordering Kuuga to take his own life as penance. Shiba could understand why someone in such a dire situation would cling to even the faintest glimmer of hope.

“Very well. Tell me of your request, Brother. I’ll do whatever I can.” Shiba smacked his own chest with his fist. He was dealing with a man who had always looked upon him with hate and resentment. While he honestly had little in the way of affection for Kuuga, their parents had long since departed for Valhalla, and Kuuga was his only living relative. Shiba wanted to do whatever he could to have a cordial relationship with him.

“So, what do I need to do?”

“Well...” Kuuga began to explain his plan, carefully concealing the burning flames of his ambition as he did so.