Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria - Volume 18 - Chapter 5

ACT 5

“Pathetic! Come now, is this the best you can do?! Does the Steel Clan have no warriors of note?!”

Shiba easily deflected the spear thrust at him and used the momentum from that action to slam the butt of his halberd against the side of a different enemy soldier. Then, in a fluid motion leading on from the previous blow, Shiba swept his halberd at a low angle, cutting open the throat of an enemy that had tried to thrust a spear into his mount. He felt the presence of an enemy behind him and used his thumb to flick a lead pellet he held in his left hand directly at them. It had little in the way of impact or range, but it was still painful to take a hit from. He could also carry at least a dozen in his hand, and it took minimal effort to flick the pellets with his thumb, so it was an extremely useful weapon to have in a situation like this. This technique would come to be known as “finger bullets” in later Chinese martial arts, but of course, Shiba had no way of knowing anything about that.

“Is he really human?!”

“He’s been fighting all this time, but he’s not slowing down...”

“He’s not even short of breath!”

He heard the fear in the Steel Clan soldiers’ voices. Shiba couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. “How rude! You dare to disregard your own ineptitude and call me the monster?! The fact of the matter is that you all are simply too weak!”

Shiba himself was only mortal. If he were to utilize his full strength, he would be reduced to gasping and panting in mere minutes. So why, then, was he still breathing normally? Human bodies were odd in that, while they could only tolerate operating at full strength for several minutes, they were more than capable of running for well over two hours at about sixty percent exertion. Shiba himself hadn’t even been fighting at sixty percent—it had been closer to fifty percent, in all honesty. If anything, the amount of effort he’d put forth had been just enough to serve as a warm-up exercise. His body felt light, and he was ready for more. He still had at least an hour left in him, by his own reckoning.

“This is why I hate fighting weaklings like you. There’s nothing to be gained from it.”

Because he found it so easy to win—to survive—he failed to see any of his own shortcomings. Since he felt no risk to his life, and the thought of his own death was but a fleeting concern to him, he couldn’t even bring himself to concentrate. Of course, this didn’t mean that he had let down his guard, but there was no sense, in his mind, that he was nearing his own limits, and therefore he wasn’t going to exceed them.

“Good grief... This would be much more engaging if they’d bring out an Einherjar or two... Mm?” Just as he was muttering to himself while dispatching yet another soldier with a well-placed thrust to the chest, Shiba saw something out of the corner of his eye and curled his lips into a predatory grin. He tugged at his reins to turn his mount, then he spurred it onward to accelerate. “Your appearance... I see you must be a warrior of note. Your life is mine!” What had caught his eye was a man of around fifty years of age riding in a chariot. While he had a faintly fragile air to him, he still had more authority and gravitas than the soldiers around him. He appeared to be one of the front-line commanders. Killing him would add confusion to the enemy’s chain of command, giving the Flame Clan a further advantage in this battle. What he was most concerned about, however, was that the men stationed with him were likely to be somewhat stronger than the mere cannon fodder he had been cutting down so far. Shiba was thoroughly bored of fighting common soldiers by this point.

Clang!

“Oh?”

Someone had blocked the blow from his halberd, and Shiba’s eyes widened with interest. The next moment, a spear thrust came at him from a different direction, and Shiba twisted his body to avoid the blow. This attack had been on a completely different level than the spear thrusts from the common soldiers he’d dealt with until now.

“Finally, an Einherjar.” Shiba’s heart rejoiced at the appearance of a strong opponent. Standing in front of him were two young men with similar facial features. He could feel the powerful flow of ásmegin emanating from their bodies. There was no doubt in his mind that the pair were Einherjar.

“My name is Askr! Askr of the Wind Clan! I will claim your life in the name of the parents and siblings you killed!”

“I am Embla! By the Oath of the Chalice, I shall strike you down for your part in the deaths of my family!”

“The Wind Clan, you say? I see now. You joined the Steel Clan to get your revenge.” Shiba snorted derisively at the pair. It was common for generals from defeated clans to be welcomed by other clans as honored guests. Askr and Embla were Wind Clan warriors of some renown. At the very least, they were warriors of sufficient repute that Shiba was familiar with their names. No doubt the Steel Clan Army had welcomed them with open arms.

“Say what you wish! We’ve already seen through your movements!”

“...Oh?”

“You’re quite impressive, but you’re not a match for the two—omph!”

Shiba’s halberd lashed out in the middle of Embla’s boast and struck him through the mouth.

“E-Embla?!” Askr stammered out his friend’s name as he stared in shock. It came too late, however. Embla’s eyes simply stared off into the distance, devoid of life.

“R-Ridiculous... I-I couldn’t even see the attack!”

“Tch... I was afraid they’d be duds...” Shiba spat out the words with a bitter and disappointed expression, then slashed at Askr with his halberd. Blood sprayed from Askr’s chest. Given that he made no effort to block the attack, it appeared that Askr hadn’t even been able to react to Shiba’s blow. Shiba had only been fighting at maybe eighty percent of his full strength against the pair, meaning that they hadn’t been anywhere near his level. Shiba had feared that would be the case when they boasted that they’d seen through his movements.

“I would have at least hoped you could block something as simple as this.”

It was a pretty common fault shared among Einherjar. Because they were blessed with a certain amount of latent talent, they developed a false sense of confidence in their abilities and could often become too lazy to train. Worse, even, was that they had no awareness of the fact that they were lazy. Such Einherjar weren’t even worth Shiba making the effort to test their abilities. They were the type of opponent Shiba found the least interesting.

“S-So this is it... I-If only I had twin runes...I would have... I’m sorry... I’m so...” Askr coughed up blood as he wept bitterly. He then dropped to his knees, and soon after, he collapsed to the ground, dead. While the Flame Clan soldiers let out a breath of admiration for the warrior who had remained loyal to the Wind Clan to his last breath, Shiba stared at the body with cold indifference.

“This is why weaklings like you are worthless.” His voice dripped with disapproval. Runes were simply powers that the gods granted on a whim. The potency of the powers granted by those runes themselves were, of course, a reflection of an Einherjar’s own ability, but what use was it to plead for powers that they didn’t have? “If you really wanted to avenge your clan, then why didn’t you dedicate yourself to your training?” It was clear to Shiba that neither Askr nor Embla had made any attempt to practice. They had never encountered any hardships or faced any struggles. They had made no effort to refine their craft. They believed they could win simply because they were both Einherjar. It showed an immensely pathetic lack of awareness.

“I haven’t forgotten you. You’re just as worthless. The weak should know their place and run when they can. It’s precisely because you don’t know when to withdraw that you’re so weak.” Shiba glared at the enemy general. The general’s face was frozen in an expression of pure fear. Despite the fact that a general’s fear would quickly infect the men below him, the enemy general made his emotions clear. He truly was hopelessly weak.

“Don’t come any closer!”

“Stay away! Get away!”

As the frightened soldiers tried to ward him off with their spears, Shiba swung his halberd with an almost bored expression, cutting them down as though he were scything through grain. “Why do you struggle to do the obvious? To do what’s required of you?” Shiba asked.

It wasn’t long before he had reached the enemy general, a task that had required very little effort. This had been a rather anticlimactic venture, all in all. As he had expected, fighting such weaklings wouldn’t bring him anywhere close to the answers he sought. He still had his true objective, Sigrún, waiting for him. He had no time to waste on such pathetic opponents. Shiba decided to quickly settle the matter.

“Why?! Why am I the one being driven back?!” Bruno shouted with a trembling voice, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. There was no one to answer his question. Everyone around him had been intimidated by the blood-spattered god of death looming in front of them; they were too busy trembling in fear.

“This... This wasn’t how...” Bruno muttered bitterly to himself. This was supposed to be a battle where his victory was assured. War was far from his specialty, but even an amateur would have been able to tell that he had prepared a perfect plan. That was why he had volunteered to lead the vanguard, after all. He was going to secure victory here, gain renown as the Wolf Clan officer the clansmen should rally behind, and from there, quickly establish himself as patriarch after Yuuto and the others had left the continent. The enemy commander had charged in, fighting on the front lines, meaning that Bruno’s scheme had been nine-tenths of the way to completion. However, when it had all played out, he was the one who was left on the brink of defeat.

“Why? That’s simple. This happened this way because you were weak.” Shiba snorted derisively and casually swung his halberd.

Clang!

“Guh!”

Bruno somehow blocked the blow with his shield, but it was a hard blow for his wizened, slender body to take. He quickly lost his footing, and he found himself thrown backward.

“Tch. Die already.” Shiba clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Frankly, Bruno had been lucky. It wasn’t that he had seen the blow coming for him, he’d simply guessed correctly. He had no confidence he could stop a second blow.

“N-No! Stop! S-Stay away! Get away from me!” Bruno shouted as he backed away. His voice and knees were both trembling. His crotch felt grossly warm. Evidently, he had wet himself. “I-I’ll surrender! S-So please, spare my life...” He tossed aside his weapons and raised both hands. It was at this point that Bruno had to face the harsh truth: he lacked the strength of character to be a general, let alone a ruler.

“You’re so afraid to die that you’re willing to throw away your pride? Pathetic worm.” Shiba’s face twisted in contempt as he thrust out his halberd. It was a careless blow, as though he had lost interest in even killing Bruno. At that moment, Bruno’s eyes regained their fire.

“Graaaah!”

Bruno let out a roar as he charged at Shiba. He felt the halberd tear into his flank, but it hardly bothered him. Bruno quickly raised his sword and lunged at Shiba.

“Pointless.”

But even that blow, unleashed with all his strength, did nothing to Shiba. He contemptuously batted aside the blow with his vambrace, and Bruno felt a heavy blow punch through his gut. Shiba had kneed him in the torso.

“Ngh!”

Bruno coughed up blood and began to crumple to the ground, where he then wrapped both of his arms around Shiba’s legs.

“What?!” Shiba said with a look of shock. This had been Bruno’s plan from the start. Bruno was a cowardly man. Despite the fact that he had thought he’d prepared himself for the worst, the moment he actually faced death, he had humiliated himself yet again. Bruno felt a deep self-hatred welling up within himself. It had only been when there was no avoiding his inevitable end that he had actually steeled himself. By that point, it was too late for any further regrets. With that in mind, he decided that he couldn’t just let things end like this. He needed to show some spirit, some amount of courage, at the very end. Otherwise, how could he possibly face all of the Wolf Clan soldiers that he had led to their deaths?

“Now! Kill him, even if you have to go through me to do it! If I can serve the Wolf Clan in death, that would be a fitting use of my life!” Those words could barely escape Bruno’s lips. The injuries to his flank and his stomach made speech a painful task to accomplish. Even so, it seemed that his will—his intent—had gotten through to the soldiers around him. The Wolf Clan soldiers swarmed Shiba with a loud war cry. With his right leg held down by Bruno, Shiba had no way of avoiding them.

“Well done.”

The moment he heard those words, Bruno felt a sharp pain run through his right shoulder. It was but a heartbeat later that Bruno realized Shiba had lopped off his arm at the shoulder. With Bruno’s grip on him weakened, Shiba was easily able to kick Bruno away and release himself from the hold he had previously been locked in. However, with attacks closing in from every direction, those two actions should have left Shiba fatally exposed. By all accounts, that was how things should have been.

“Phew. I wasn’t expecting to need to enter the Realm of the Gods. Allow me to apologize for calling you a pathetic worm.” Shiba was the last man standing after the storm of spear thrusts. All of the soldiers that had attacked him lay dead at his feet.

“Even this... Even this couldn’t reach him...” Bruno said as he wept, the tears coursing down his cheeks. He was embarrassed at his own failure, by the fact that he couldn’t even inflict a single injury on Shiba despite the sheer number of Wolf Clan lives that had been wasted on this battlefield.

“No, you reached me. It was the strength of your will.” With that, Shiba showed the outside of his left hand to Bruno. There was a single spear wound on Shiba’s hand, and the blood from the wound dripped onto Bruno’s cheek.

“The price was too high...for such a minor...hack...wound...”

“That is certainly true.” Shiba nodded in agreement as he lifted his sword up above him. “I could leave you here, but you won’t live long with those wounds. As a reward for inflicting an injury upon me, allow me to send you to Valhalla.” Then, just as Shiba was about to finish off Bruno...

“Graaaaah!”

Bruno heard a cheer rising from in front of him, far off in the distance. The Flame Clan Army was in front of him, so beyond that would be—

“Heheheh, so they’ve finally arrived. This is the end for you!” Bruno said triumphantly, pointing his remaining hand’s index finger at Shiba.

The Flame Clan troops were currently busy charging the Wolf Clan forces under Bruno’s command. Armies, in general, were extremely vulnerable to attacks from every direction besides the front. Now, the Wolf Clan’s most powerful and elite unit, the Múspell Unit, had been unleashed on the unprotected rear of the Flame Clan forces. The only way the Flame Clan Army could have won this battle was if they had defeated the enemy to their front and taken Iárnviðr before the Múspell Unit could arrive. Though the Steel Clan forces under Bruno’s command had been decimated, there were still four thousand fresh soldiers under Linnea’s command stationed right behind them, meaning the Steel Clan had managed to survive Shiba’s last-ditch effort to break them. Despite that, however, there wasn’t a hint of anxiety or confusion on Shiba’s face. His expression only showed pity.

“If you were hoping for the Múspells to save you, I’m afraid to inform you that we’re not the ones caught in a trap. You have fallen into ours,” Shiba coldly informed him.

“Tch. We’re definitely late.” Sigrún clicked her tongue softly as she heard angry shouts and the clangor of metal striking metal far off in front of her. The original idea had been for the two detachments to attack the Flame Clan force simultaneously, but given that the battle had already started, it meant the enemy must have known what the Steel Clan had been planning to do.

“It appears I rushed in too carelessly,” Sigrún said with a deep sigh. They had only taken a short rest after their arrival, choosing to head into the battle soon after. If they had carefully watched for enemy scouts, they may well have been able to prevent this outcome. Furthermore, if the enemy was aware of the Múspell Unit’s arrival, then this would be the moment they were most on guard.

In battle, the best choice wasn’t always the one that led to the most effective results. If anything, it was more common for those choices to instead produce the worst outcomes. This happened because it was easy for an enemy to infer what the optimal choices for any given situation would be. If they hadn’t needed to contend with the problem of food supplies for the refugees, they would have had the option to delay their deployment by several days to catch the enemy off guard.

“No good ever comes from allowing anxiety to lead your decision-making...” she remarked curtly, evidently rather frustrated by having made such a poor choice.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Mother Rún. The enemy’s just delaying the inevitable,” Hildegard said with a confident chuckle. Sigrún lightly smacked Hildegard’s head with the haft of her spear. “Ow! What the heck?!”

“You’ve gotten into trouble in the past for underestimating the enemy like that. It’s long past time you learned from it.”

“Well, uh...” It seemed Hildegard was aware of that fact, and she frowned sourly.

“You’re not wrong. The current situation is to our overwhelming advantage. However, you would do well to remember that the enemy is led by Shiba. If we let down our guard for even a moment, he’ll be the one tearing into us.” As she mentioned this, Sigrún’s mind drifted back to the duel she had fought against Shiba at the Flame Clan capital. She was reminded once again of the sheer number of techniques he had at his disposal and the staggering quality of every one of his moves. What was especially gobsmacking about him was how quick and accurate his decisions were in the heat of battle. These things combined had left her speechless.

“All of you, don’t let your guard down as Hilda has. You never know what will happen in battle!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

As they heeded Sigrún’s warning, the other members of the Múspell Unit answered in unison with renewed determination. There wasn’t a trace of Hildegard’s overconfidence in their responses. That was one of the benefits of commanding a unit of experienced, elite veterans. Sigrún looked fondly at her trusted subordinates and raised her spear into the air. “Right then! Let me really hear you! Múspells! Charge!”

With a shout that made the air itself tremble, the Múspell Unit kicked up a dust cloud as they charged into the Flame Clan Army’s rear. They were like a pack of wolves attacking their prey on the plains. They lunged at their prey, the Flame Clan Army, with verve. However, just as they were about to make contact with the Flame Clan forces, roars erupted from their flanks, and countless war banners went up.

“Can you hear that? Do you see now? We’re not the ones caught in the vise. It’s your precious Múspell Unit,” Shiba said plainly as he looked down at Bruno, not a trace of triumph or mockery present in his voice or on his features.

He was a warrior to the core. While he was coldly dismissive to those who were without skill or those he considered to be foolish, he paid respect to whoever proved their mettle as warriors in his eyes—regardless of whether they were an ally or an enemy. The man lying before him had gone to the trouble of humiliating himself in front of his own men to make Shiba lower his guard and then attempted to sacrifice himself in an effort to take down Shiba. He might have been an enemy, but Shiba was impressed. Shiba believed that he owed such an enemy the greatest possible respect.

“It’s when they’re certain of victory that people are most vulnerable,” Shiba continued. “Meaning it’s those moments where the greatest caution is necessary. Well, I suppose this is useless advice to you, given you’re about to head to Valhalla...”

Shiba saw that Bruno had already suffered fatal injuries. Bruno’s stomach had been split open, and he had also lost his right arm. He was bleeding profusely, and Shiba wasn’t certain if his words even reached the gravely injured man below him. Still, the least he could do was explain why the Steel Clan had lost this battle.

“Heh...heh...ahahahahaha!” Suddenly, Bruno burst out into maniacal laughter. He was laughing so loudly that Shiba wondered how he was mustering that much strength in his current state.

“I see you’ve realized that you’ve been utterly defeated.”

People often were angry or frustrated at a close defeat, but against an overwhelming defeat, often the most they could do was laugh in response. Shiba had faced such circumstances several times himself.

“You’re right, this is a devastating loss. Those are the only words I can think of to describe it. You, who I could do nothing against, have been played by a man who wasn’t even here.”

“What?!” Shiba’s expression tensed when he heard Bruno utter those words. For a moment, he thought that Bruno was putting on a show, one last theatrical display in some effort to unnerve him, but that thought dissipated in the blink of an eye. That was because Bruno’s expression was full of confidence in victory and spite.

“The forces you see on either flank... They’re the Flame Clan Army’s Fifth Division, a unit which serves under Kuuga, are they not? Allow me to reveal who brought this plan to us. It was Kuuga himself!”

“Wha...?!” Shiba’s eyes widened in shock. It was true that Kuuga had disobeyed Nobunaga’s orders and had suffered a humiliating setback as a result. There was no way he would be able to avoid some sort of punishment for that mistake. But even so, never in his worst nightmares had Shiba ever expected Kuuga to betray the Flame Clan as a result. “It’s pointless to try to confuse me. My brother knows well enough that if he crushes the Múspell Unit in this battle, the Great Lord’s anger will be assuaged. More than that, he knows that the only fate that awaits him if he rebels against the Great Lord is death. He wouldn’t do anything so foolish.”

He would have understood had it been someone who was foolishly true to their desires, willing to risk everything so long as they had a chance of achieving their aims. He would think it inevitable were it some incompetent fool without a shred of intelligence. It would at least be somewhat understandable if it were an ordinary man who couldn’t read the broad direction of unfolding events.

Kuuga was none of those things, though. He was extremely passionate about protecting his own hide, and he was cautious almost to the point of cowardice. He was smarter than anyone else in the Flame Clan Army, and he was willing to flatter and play the fool to the strong. More than anything, he was a man who had used those traits to rise to his current rank of division commander. There was no way that someone like him would ever act in such a foolish manner. Despite that certainty—that conviction—there was a faint tremor in Shiba’s voice. That was an extremely rare occurrence.

“Heheh... You really don’t understand men, do you, young man? That’s why even your blood brother betrays you.” Bruno’s lips curled into a thoroughly malicious and pleased smirk. The color had drained from Bruno’s face, and he was as pale as a wraith, which made the expression all that much eerier. “Men don’t move solely based on profit or advantage. If anything, they’re driven by emotion. No matter how great the benefits you bring someone, or how much you reward them, those who can’t understand—those who can’t empathize with human weakness—will, in the end, lose the hearts of the people serving under them. All men like them will eventually find themselves being betrayed and abandoned. That is the ironclad law of man! Heheh. Hahaha. Hahahahahahaha...ha...ha...” Bruno’s cackling gradually faded until it stopped entirely. He had died, having the last word and the last laugh.

Shiba stood wordlessly as he gazed down at Bruno’s corpse. Ordinarily, he would have dismissed comments like those as the ramblings of a desperate weakling. However, given the current situation, as well as the fact that Bruno’s words echoed the warning Old Man Salk had given him before he had set off on this campaign, Shiba found himself feeling rather shaken. A part of Shiba already knew that the enemy general’s words were true. He had no evidence, but his intuition at times like this was never wrong. Whether or not he could accept that fact was another matter, however.

“What does it mean to understand, to empathize...?”

Shiba had thought he had treated the weak well, in his own way. He never gave them tasks that were beyond their ability, and when they were struggling, he often lent them a hand. That had been true this time as well. He had let his older brother have the place of honor. He had volunteered to lead the vanguard and absorb the enemy’s attacks, all so that Kuuga could have the glory of defeating the enemy. It made no sense to him. He couldn’t understand what he had done wrong. However, what would come next brutally revealed the reality of what was unfolding before him.

“Big Brother! This is bad! That bastard Kuuga’s started attacking us! That son of a bitch has betrayed us and led us right into a trap!” Masa shouted as he ran over to Shiba, his face red with anger. Ordinarily, the words would have provoked a burning rage within Shiba’s breast, but for some reason, he didn’t feel a thing. It was a strange feeling, an odd numbness that surprised even him. It was as though he were merely watching this happen to someone else.

“I see...” With those words, Shiba glanced up at the heavens. His mind played back memories of when Shiba was still a child and Kuuga had been his gentle older brother. It was in the distant past, to be sure. It was almost impossible to believe they were once like that, given their current relationship, but it was a reality once upon a time. Shiba then cut away those memories and tossed them aside. He quickly changed over his mindset and immediately came to a decision. “We’ve lost this battle. It’s time to retreat!”

He made the decision solely based on a cold calculation of the situation. He refused to allow his emotions to cloud his judgment. That was one of the things that marked Shiba as both a man and a general. Despite his stoicism, however, he was also a tragic figure. This was the only way he knew how to respond to a situation as cruel as this one.

“Your Majesty. I bear good tidings. Lord Kuuga has joined our side as promised and has surrounded the Flame Clan Army.”

“I see! Well done! Very well done, Alexis!” As a sudden voice echoed in his head, Yuuto let out a shout of happiness. To any who may have been present around him, he likely appeared to be on the verge of breaking out into dance. He had already received word that Alexis had reached a secret agreement with Kuuga to betray Nobunaga, but he wasn’t able to shake the suspicion that it was all a ploy to deceive him. He was also uncertain about whether Kuuga, who had claimed he was totally intent on swapping sides, would instead flip on that decision after realizing that the Steel Clan was at a disadvantage. It was a dangerous tightrope that he had been walking, and with it came a great deal of anxiety.

“Is something the matter, Your Majesty?” Fagrahvél asked with a look of concern. They had been in the middle of a war council, and when Yuuto looked around, he found the other generals looking at him in confusion. It was at that moment that Yuuto realized his blunder. He had apparently gotten a bit too excited upon hearing the news he had long been waiting to hear. He had completely forgotten that the only person who could hear Alexis’s voice was the person holding the matching mirror that Alexis had left in their possession.

Yuuto coughed briefly into his hand and turned to address his generals. “All of you, rejoice. I’ve received excellent news. The Flame Clan Fifth Division’s commander, Kuuga, has turned against Nobunaga and allied with the Steel Clan.”

A murmur spread among the assembled generals. However, the reaction was a bit different from what Yuuto had expected.

“Your Majesty, perhaps you should go get some rest...” After briefly glancing at the generals present, Fagrahvél advised him with a serious look of concern. While the others remained silent, their expressions showed that they agreed with her.

“Wha—oh...” Yuuto finally grasped why the mood in the room was somewhat strange. In their eyes, he likely appeared to be so sleep-deprived that he had confused a daydream with reality. A cringeworthy way to be viewed, for certain. Given the circumstances, it was understandable that they’d draw such a conclusion, but he needed to make sure that he cleared up the misunderstanding. “This is neither a delusion nor a dream. It’s reality. I’m sure many of you are familiar with Alexis, the Holy Emissary and goði.”

“Ah, him,” Hveðrungr said curtly, venom dripping from every word. When Hveðrungr was patriarch of the Panther Clan, Alexis had been the one who had arranged for the Oath of the Chalice that had made him a sworn brother of Steinþórr of the Lightning Clan. Alexis had been behind several other plots during that time, and he had been the one who had convinced Hveðrungr’s wife, Sigyn, to send Yuuto back to the present by luring her with false promises. It was understandable that Hveðrungr disliked the man, having felt like he had been manipulated like a pawn on his board.

“It does make sense. The goði is also a representative of the þjóðann. He had always been a somewhat shady character whose true allegiances were hard to discern, but I suppose that as you are þjóðann, he is now your direct subordinate,” Hveðrungr said tactfully, given the current company. The sheer formality of Hveðrungr’s tone left Yuuto feeling strangely uncomfortable—ticklish, even. That said, Yuuto wasn’t so foolish as to draw attention to the faint tones of sarcasm lurking in Hveðrungr’s words and make the situation more complicated. He somehow managed to contain his urge to burst out laughing and nodded solemnly with the gravitas appropriate to the occasion.

“Yes, exactly.”

In reality, the relationship between the two was a bit more complicated than that. According to Kristina’s reports, Alexis had been closely tied to the previous Imperial High Priest and Spear Clan patriarch, Hárbarth. He had been responsible for putting Hárbarth’s schemes into action and had been conspiring to remove Yuuto, “The Black One,” from this world. After Hárbarth’s fall, however, Alexis had remained in the position of Holy Emissary, as though he had been completely uninvolved in Hárbarth’s plotting.

While Yuuto had known exactly what kind of person Alexis was for a very long time now, he still found himself marveling at the man’s sheer audacity. With all of that information in hand, and aware of Alexis’s character, Yuuto had not only pardoned him for his actions, but he had even promoted him. He had done so because Alexis had a powerful ability that made him unique and irreplaceable in Yggdrasil.

“Alexis is an Einherjar with a very unique power. He’s capable of communicating over long distances using mirrors made of álfkipfer.” With that, Yuuto retrieved a hand mirror out of his pocket and showed it to the assembled generals as though it were a mark of office. Thanks to Alexis’s ability, Yuuto was able to keep close tabs on the situation in western Yggdrasil. Of course, he had been somewhat irritated to learn that Alexis had been conspiring to kill him, but his ability was so valuable as a strategic asset that it was well worth the price to pardon him.

Finally understanding what had made her late opponent Hárbarth quite so formidable, Fagrahvél had something to say on the matter. “I see, so that’s what it was. That sheds light on quite a few things. The reason Hárbarth was known as the Skilfingr, the Watcher from on High, was not because of his own power, but because he had Alexis working for him.” She then smacked her left fist into her right palm with a slightly flustered expression. Yuuto had heard that she had been outmaneuvered by her political rival Hárbarth on countless occasions due to his superior grasp of information. She probably had a lot of undigested anger lingering from those experiences.

“I seeeeee, so that explaains Alexis, buuuut, how did you maaanage to get a Flame Clan Division Commaaander to turn traaaitor?” Bára, the Steel Clan’s strategist, asked in her uniquely languid cadence.

Her question was perfectly reasonable. In general, because the Oath of the Chalice was considered sacred and inviolable on Yggdrasil, betrayal was a rare occurrence. Considering just how much of a disadvantage the Steel Clan currently found itself in, for a distinguished enemy general to turn traitor was almost inconceivable. However, that is exactly what had happened.

“That’s Oda Nobunaga’s greatest weakness,” Yuuto said as he curled his lips into a grin.

No one with Nobunaga’s level of success and momentum had ever been betrayed as often as he had been throughout his career. At the very least, as far as Yuuto was aware, he was far and away the warlord who had been betrayed most in Japanese history. The most well-known example was Akechi Mitsuhide’s betrayal that led to the Honno-ji Temple incident, but he had also been betrayed by his brother Oda Nobuyuki. Additionally, Shibata Katsuie, the most distinguished of the Five Great Oda Clan Generals, and Hayashi Hidesada, the man who had been appointed the head of his privy council by his father Nobuhide, had initially sided against him and taken Nobuyuki’s side in the brief civil war. Oda Nobuhiro, Matsunaga Hisahide, Mirashige Araki—the list included a veritable who’s who of Nobunaga’s retainers. Hashiba Hideyoshi, later known as Toyotomi Hideyoshi, also found a place on this list. This was despite the fact that he had been raised from a mere farmer to a regional lord by Nobunaga. After his liege’s death, he had orchestrated a takeover of the Oda Clan and driven Nobutaka, Nobunaga’s third son, to suicide.

“In the land beyond the heavens, my homeland, he had been betrayed over fifty times. Those who had betrayed him included both allied lords and even his own retainers and blood relatives.” Even in the anarchic and shifting world of the Warring States Period, this number was a total outlier. It was far too many for it to be mere coincidence; that is to say, there was something about Nobunaga that forced those under him to feel they had to betray him.

“It’s difficult to believe that someone who inspires so little loyalty could create as large a clan as he has,” Fagrahvél observed, furrowing her brow skeptically as she pointed out a rather obvious contradiction. It seemed that everyone in the room agreed with her, and Yuuto saw the other generals nodding along to her observation.

“I’m told that while many betrayed him, he also had countless retainers who swore absolute loyalty to him. Basically, for good or for ill, he has an extremely powerful and unique personality.”

People with strong personalities were often loved or even worshipped by those who resonated with them, but at the same time, such people could also engender enormous amounts of hatred toward themselves. Simply put, strong personalities were also extremely polarizing.

That was true of Nobunaga as well. It was said that Nobunaga in particular was an arch-pragmatist, and he had no use for excuses or complaints. People tended to feel cut off or rejected by personalities that showed no understanding of human frailty. Without a sense of empathy, of fellowship, it didn’t matter how much material reward was heaped on a person; that person still felt a strong sense of anxiety, and often that anxiety drove them to desperate actions. Of course, that didn’t mean that everyone reacted that way, but most people at least tended to feel those feelings to some extent. The reason divorce had become so common in older couples in modern Japan was probably related to this fact. The more pragmatic the person, the more likely they were to fall into that trap.

“I seeeee. So you looked for the individual mooost likely to betray him and gooooaded him into iiiit,” Bára clapped her hands together and said as though impressed at the thought.

While he knew that she meant it as a compliment, the way it was phrased made Yuuto feel like a terrible villain, and he felt her words sting his conscience. Then again, it was also the simple truth.

“Yeah, basically.” Yuuto shrugged his shoulders with a self-deprecating chuckle. He had chosen the strategy of divide and conquer. It was underhanded and it left a bitter aftertaste, but it had destroyed countless countries throughout history, and it was a plan that played at the darkness that lurked in human hearts, a scheme that would exist so long as human beings remained fallible.

As the conversation between the Steel Clan officers was unfolding, Kuuga was joyously urging his soldiers onward. “Have at it! Kill Shiba! He is but a rebel who dared challenge His Majesty, the þjóðann!” This was, without exaggeration, the most enjoyable moment of Kuuga’s life. The man who had caused him naught but pain—who had been a constant reminder of his own shortcomings—was now at his mercy. Better still, it was as a result of a scheme he himself had concocted!

“I wonder what he’s thinking right now. My only regret is not being able to see his face.” Kuuga hurriedly covered his mouth as his lips threatened to break out into a grin. Although the outcome of the battle was all but decided at this point, it was still raging around him. It would be bad for morale for the general to let down his guard in the heat of battle. He was well aware of that fact. However...

“Heh... He was thrown into the depths of despair at the very moment that he was convinced that he had won. I wonder how he feels now... Imagining that arrogant scumbag’s face twisted in sheer rage and hatred directed wholly at me... Hah! It’s just too much! Bahahaha!” Kuuga simply wasn’t able to contain his laughter.

It wasn’t that they had hated each other from childhood. If anything, Kuuga was someone who took care of those who served under him, and given how busy their parents had been, Kuuga had ended up practically raising Shiba himself. Swordsmanship, strategy, basic scholarship... Kuuga had been the one who taught Shiba all of these things. Of course, Shiba quickly overtook Kuuga in each of them. Certainly, Shiba had put forward a great deal of effort, but Kuuga never felt that he had tried any less than his brother. He also firmly believed that he had struggled far more than his brother and had used those struggles as fuel to drive himself to further heights. Reality was a harsh mistress.

Kuuga was, in terms of rank and reputation, inferior to his brother, who was a decade his junior. Why wasn’t he blessed with talent like Shiba? They had been born to the same parents, after all.

Had they been complete strangers, or if Shiba had realized what Kuuga felt when he had begun to distance himself from Shiba, then perhaps Kuuga’s resentment wouldn’t have been twisted into the ugly hatred that now drove him. Every time Shiba approached Kuuga to make amends—to be kind to him or to praise him—it only reminded Kuuga of the unbridgeable gap between them. Kuuga was constantly forced to reflect upon himself. All he saw was the ugly person he had become—a man that was consumed by jealousy, a pathetic and petty man who was unable to muster the strength of character to celebrate his brother’s achievements. He was a horrible human being who wanted to kill his own brother. Being forced to confront that side of himself over and over for well over a decade had eroded away any familial affection he had once felt for his blood brother, and it had left nothing but hatred in its wake. Now, however, he had an opportunity to rid himself of the mirror that kept showing him the reflection he loathed. Even a decent man would have struggled to contain his glee.

“Such smirking is unbecoming of the Second of the Lightning Clan. What sort of example does it send to the men?” A dismissively arrogant voice splashed cold water on Kuuga’s excitement. When Kuuga turned to face the voice, he found an alluring woman in her twenties whose gaze hinted at a complex, difficult personality lurking beneath.

“Ah, Lady Röskva. Or should I call you Mother? I appreciate your advice.” While Kuuga was internally irate, he put on a diplomatic smile and responded politely. She was an important figurehead. He needed to show her respect, at least for now.

Röskva was the former Second of the Lightning Clan. After the fall of Bilskírnir, she had escaped the Flame Clan forces who had pursued her and had hidden away safely, but Alexis had somehow found her and brought her to see Kuuga. Röskva, as Second—that is, the chosen successor of the Lightning Clan patriarch, Steinþórr—had served as a rallying point for those who opposed the Flame Clan’s rule. Even with the justification of following the þjóðann’s divine edicts, as well as an Oath of the Chalice sworn to Röskva, there weren’t many who truly wished to follow a traitor like Kuuga. On top of that, it wasn’t wise for him to be such a public part of his own scheme. For that reason, he had chosen her to serve as his figurehead, having lured her in with the promise of resurrecting the Lightning Clan, as well as giving her shelter.

Röskva was arrogant, and even the most loyal of her followers wouldn’t say she had a pleasant personality, but she was still much easier to handle than Nobunaga. While he had betrayed Nobunaga, Kuuga himself bore his former liege lord no particular ill will. In fact, he even felt some gratitude for the fact that Nobunaga had promoted him.

At odds with his current actions, Kuuga actually considered Nobunaga an ideal ruler for a number of reasons, such as his ability to see the bigger picture, his sense of fairness, and his ability to inspire his subordinates to share in his dreams of conquest. But that was exactly why he was such an oppressive man to serve. Nobunaga constantly demanded that those who served him produced results that justified their position. The moment they stopped producing those results, he would demote them with no consideration for their past accomplishments, and in the most extreme cases, Nobunaga had even exiled those former subordinates from the Flame Clan entirely.

In a sense, that was the right thing to do. Perhaps it was even the ideal way for a ruler to act. However, Kuuga was only human. Given all the effort he had put in when he was younger, he wanted to enjoy the fruits of his labor. If he ever decided to relax, or if he ever let himself grow complacent, Nobunaga would quickly confiscate his title, his rank, his reputation, and his wealth—everything he had worked so hard to achieve.

Under Nobunaga’s rule, Kuuga had lived in a constant state of fear. Every day, he felt the lining of his stomach wearing thinner and thinner. Nobunaga showed no regard for that sort of weakness, or perhaps he simply couldn’t understand it. He would nonchalantly dismiss Kuuga’s fears as weakness and yell at him, chastising him to be stronger. That was a logical and rational point of view, by most accounts. However, at times, logical and rational arguments could be quite damaging to a person’s psyche. No human could constantly maintain the kind of pragmatic perfection that Nobunaga demanded. They had desires they needed to fulfill.

Kuuga had felt that his body and mind would both eventually be crushed under the weight of Nobunaga’s expectations. In comparison to that, he was now in paradise. He had been released of all his responsibilities, and his heart felt lighter than it had in many years. Of course, he would likely eventually die at Nobunaga’s hand. He had no illusions that he could defeat that monster. Even so, he knew that he wouldn’t regret this decision. Being killed by Nobunaga someday was a small price to pay for his newfound emotional freedom and for the opportunity for revenge—for victory against the blood brother he so despised.

As this was occurring, Linnea was reeling in the wake of an unexpected reunion.

“You’re alive...? You’re really alive?”

The moment a certain individual arrived at her headquarters, tears streamed from Linnea’s eyes. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Ignoring the fact that there were plenty of onlookers, Linnea dashed over and embraced him. Certainly, it was problematic for Linnea, the þjóðann’s third wife, to be seen embracing someone other than Yuuto, but none present were so boorish as to point out that fact.

“I am indeed, as you can very well see. Though I’m a tad embarrassed, given the brave façade I had put on prior to my departure.”

“Th-There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Rasmus! Thank the gods! Thank the gods you’re alive! Waaaaaaah!” Her emotions overwhelmed her at that moment. She clung tightly to Rasmus and began bawling like a child. Rasmus looked at a loss for how to respond, but he supposed he would be forgiven, at least for today, and returned the embrace, gently stroking Linnea’s hair. “I’m home, Princess.”

“Yes, you are! Thank the gods you’ve returned! I’m glad... I’m so glad! Waaaahhhhhh! Rasmus! Rasmus! Waaaaaaaah!” She repeated the same words over and over and began bawling again. At that particular moment, she had practically reverted to her more childlike ways. She appeared to be a completely different person from the woman that so ably governed the Steel Clan as its Second.

Linnea was well aware of how important it was to maintain appearances and her authority as Second. However, Rasmus was so important to her—and she was so overcome with emotion in the wake of his safe return—that she couldn’t maintain her composure well enough to keep up her image as a ruler, even here, in public.

“I thought... I thought I’d never see you again... Sniff...”

“Princess... I, too, am happy to see you again...”

It seemed Rasmus, too, was overcome with emotion, and he choked on his words. The generals around them had completely forgotten they were currently on the battlefield, and many wiped tears from their eyes, touched by the sight before them.

After about five minutes of crying, Linnea had managed to calm down. She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “Sheesh... Father is always full of surprises. I never would have thought to send Alexis as a messenger and secretly secure Lord Kuuga’s defection,” she said calmly in her usual confident tone. It was as though the last five minutes had never happened. That said, her cheeks were still faintly red, and it was obvious she was just trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Yes, I was quite surprised as well. We were cooped up in the Hliðskjálf when Lord Alexis suddenly appeared and told me that Lord Kuuga was actually an ally. I have to admit I thought it was some sort of sick joke.”

“Haha, Lord Rasmus was extremely stubborn, and it took quite an effort to convince him I was telling the truth,” the portly man with a full beard standing next to Rasmus said with a dry chuckle. He was the man of the hour, Alexis, the Holy Emissary of the þjóðann and goði of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire. He was also the man who had brought Rasmus and his subordinates, who had previously been Kuuga’s prisoners, safely to Linnea’s camp. “Even when I showed him a letter written by His Majesty’s own hand, he kept insisting that he needed to die there.”

“Please don’t mention that... At the time, I had resolved myself to be ready to die in that battle...” Rasmus scratched at his head with an embarrassed expression plastered across his face.

Based upon this exchange, it was clear to Linnea that it had been quite the struggle to get Rasmus to finally believe what Alexis had come to tell him. She quickly turned to Alexis and took his hand. “Thank you so much! Thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart, Lord Alexis! You did so very well to convince this utter numbskull to listen to you!” She bowed her head so low that she was practically pressing her forehead to his hand. Linnea knew from life experience just how committed, pigheaded, and difficult it was to move Rasmus once he had made up his mind.

“Hah... Well, my silver tongue is my only real weapon, after all,” Alexis said casually. He had spent years as the Holy Emissary negotiating ceasefires in conflicts between clans and serving as a mediator for alliance negotiations. The reason Yuuto had pardoned him and recruited him despite his history of participating in schemes against him was not simply due to his ability as an Einherjar, but largely because he wished to leverage the persuasive powers he had developed and cultivated over his many years of duty. Yuuto had believed Alexis would be the key to orchestrating this defection, and he had been vindicated in that belief.

“Well, I had no choice but to bend, since he explained that if I didn’t, His Majesty’s plans would come to naught and the Steel Clan itself might very well collapse,” mentioned a mildly flustered Rasmus.

“That’s fair. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t want to work with the general who killed you,” Linnea replied.

As she listened to Rasmus, Linnea nodded in agreement. Even if it had been Yuuto’s plan, if the man who had killed Rasmus, who was practically a surrogate father to her, had come to her wanting to defect to the Steel Clan, she knew that her heart would have driven her to reject that offer. She would have either rejected the offer outright as unbelievable, or she would have prejudged the situation as a trap and then searched for reasons that would prove to her that it was, in fact, a trap. The reason she was able to accept fighting alongside Kuuga in these circumstances was that Rasmus and his subordinates had returned to her alive.

Between the plan’s success and Rasmus’s return, the tension had completely left the headquarters. However, soon after this, a messenger entered and quickly shattered the illusion of calm that had been present in the room. “I-I bring a report! The Wolf Clan’s head elder, Lord Bruno, has been slain in battle!” Linnea’s expression darkened. Even if she understood that losing people was part of war, learning of Bruno’s death immediately after victory had been assured left a painful feeling in her heart. The world was still a harsh place where good things never lasted for any appreciable amount of time.

“I see... We lost a great man today.” Her first impression upon meeting him had been awful, and he was a difficult person to deal with, but as she had gotten to know him better, Linnea’s dislike of the man had started to fade. As a fellow ruler, she had even started to respect the love he had for his own people. She felt a profound sadness upon learning of his death, and she felt the loss all the more keenly since she sincerely believed he would have been the ideal person to leave in charge of the people who chose to remain in Yggdrasil after everyone else had left. Linnea closed her eyes, thought back to her interactions with Bruno, and murmured, “You’ll be avenged. Please wait for us until we meet again in Valhalla.”

“Guh!”

“Aagh!”

Shiba swept across the battlefield as he continued to cut down enemy soldiers. Having been surrounded on four sides, the Flame Clan Army no longer had any chance of victory, and the enemy had already shifted to eliminating the remaining Flame Clan forces. But, contrary to Kuuga’s hopes, Shiba’s expression showed not even the slightest trace of panic. In fact, despite everything, his face was actually lit with a thoroughly happy smile.

“Sometimes losing isn’t so bad, is it? There’s no end to the enemies I must cut down!”

“You’re about the only one who can enjoy being in this situation, Big Brother!”

Next to him, his adjutant, Masa, let out an exasperated shout as he cut down an enemy trying to exploit an opening in Shiba’s flank. While Masa’s duties were largely clerical, meaning he was often overwhelmed by paperwork, he was still a powerful warrior in his own right. In fact, thanks to having trained at Shiba’s side for many years, his skill as a warrior was nearly equal to that of an Einherjar. The pair were fighting together with perfect coordination. They were able to cut down the endless stream of Steel Clan and Lightning Clan soldiers attempting to kill them, and after some time, they had finally slashed a bloody path through the enemy forces.

“Masa, I’ve got an idea! If you use your arm to...”

“Later, please!”

Shiba tried to describe his new scheme, but Masa dismissed him out of hand. Frankly, he wasn’t in any state to hold a conversation. Even if he was as strong as an Einherjar, they were still up against overwhelming odds. They were being assaulted from all sides every few seconds. The tension and fear that came with constantly facing death were wearing upon Masa’s body and spirit.

“Masa, hold fast. Your movements are slowing.”

“Easier said than done. I’m not the same monster you are!”

“You need only put your mind to it to become as strong as I!”

“You never change... Even your brain is made of muscle!”

“Yeah, and that’s why I need you.”

“I’m well aware, which is why I wished to accompany you to the very end, but it seems the time I have left is becoming rather short...” Masa suddenly collapsed to one knee mid-speech. On the battlefield, such a thing was tantamount to suicide.

“Masa!” Shiba immediately swung his halberd and cut down the enemy soldiers lunging at Masa. He took the opportunity to examine Masa’s legs, but he couldn’t find any visible wounds. Despite that, Masa wasn’t getting back on his feet—he no longer could.

“Hah... Seems like I pulled something.”

“...I see.” Shiba’s voice was as calm as it ever was, but there was a faint pause before he spoke. Masa had been his constant companion in war for over a decade, and he was also his sworn younger brother. Even Shiba felt a profound sadness as he began to realize that they would soon be separated for all eternity.

“May the gods favor you!”

“You served me well! Thank you for your many years of loyal service!”

They exchanged glances and spoke a single sentence each before Shiba resumed his run. Shiba, despite his nearly superhuman abilities, wouldn’t have been able to carry a person on his back and manage to escape this encirclement alive. He had no choice but to leave Masa behind. He didn’t bother to steal a glance backward; even that could create a life-threatening opening.

Shiba always, whatever the situation, immediately and calmly made the right decision. That was the root of Shiba’s strength. Even so, there was a trickle of blood flowing from his lips where he had bit down hard to force himself forward.

“Shiba! I’ve found you at last!” A silver-haired Einherjar and her cavalry appeared before him. That Einherjar was Sigrún, the greatest warrior of the Steel Clan and holder of the title of Mánagarmr, the Strongest Silver Wolf.

“You managed to find me in this melee. You are quite sharp-witted indeed!” He was impressed. It was an act worthy of the warrior he looked forward to facing again. While he would have liked to fight and defeat her at that very moment, the current circumstances were not in his favor. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have the time to fight you right now!” Shiba said dismissively, blocking a sweep from Sigrún’s spear and using the momentum from her swing to leap into the air. He then cut down the Múspell trooper in front of him and took the slain man’s horse. It might have been one thing for a soldier of small stature to pull off this maneuver, but Shiba was a stout mountain of a man. For someone of his size to have pulled it off was a feat worthy of renown. He tugged at the horse’s reins, spurring it on with his legs as he attempted to leave the area.

“Ah! Hold it!” Sigrún set off in pursuit.

This was exactly the outcome he had hoped for. There was no way he could face her in single combat so long as they stood in the midst of the Steel and Lightning Clan forces. If they were going to fight, he wanted to do it in a place where no one could interrupt them. If his intuition served him right, he was getting close to such a location.

“Found it!” Having pushed through the enemy formation, he caught sight of the glimmering water ahead. It was the Körmt River—the great river that divided the Álfheimr and Vanaheimr regions. He would easily be able to shake most of his pursuers if he could make it across the river. If Sigrún decided to follow him across, then he’d gladly take her on. They would resume their duel once they had crossed the river. Just as his lips began to curl into a smile, the loud retort of gunfire echoed through the air.

“Heh, it’s just like you to have defied all common sensibilities and managed to survive this long. No surprises there, eh, Shiba?” Kuuga smiled maliciously as he shouldered a tanegashima. Black smoke rose from the weapon. This situation was unfolding exactly as he had expected—no, as he had hoped. He knew that Shiba would be able to make it through the overwhelming forces that had been closing in on him. Ordinarily, something like that should have been impossible, but Kuuga hadn’t doubted that Shiba would succeed in his escape and reach this point for even a moment. For that reason, he had assembled a unit armed with tanegashimas and stationed them here to await his arrival. “Yes, I need to kill you myself.”

This had all been done in the name of accomplishing this small act of vengeance. Things were going exactly as he had hoped, and even he was a bit frightened by the sheer sharpness of his intuition. He trembled in sheer joy as he realized his goal was finally coming to fruition.

“Impressive, Brother. You can tell everything about me.” Shiba, who Kuuga had thought he’d taken down with the barrage, casually stood up. It appeared he had jumped from his mount a split-second before the fusillade and avoided the hail of gunfire.

“Tch, you’re still alive. Nothing gets past that blasted intuition of yours.” Kuuga clicked his tongue and glared angrily in Shiba’s direction. Despite the fact that Kuuga wanted to erase him from this world as quickly as possible, Shiba clung to life like a cockroach.

“You hate me so much you want to kill me, do you, Brother?”

“Yes, so much so that even killing you a hundred times over wouldn’t satisfy me.”

“I see. What a coincidence. I feel the same way. Masa is dead because of you.”

“Heh, that’s it! That’s the face I wanted to see, Shiba!” Kuuga’s mouth twisted into an evil grin, thoroughly enjoying the current situation. It was such a twisted expression that the people around him trembled at the sight, amazed that the human face could show so much malice in a smile. None of this bothered Kuuga in the slightest though.

Shiba gazed at him with hatred in his eyes, an intense rage burning within them. It had been a long time—over twenty years, in fact—since Shiba had properly directed his gaze toward Kuuga. He didn’t see him as an inferior who wasn’t worthy of his time, but rather as a hated enemy to kill.

“I’d like to enjoy the view a bit longer, but I’m not going to underestimate you in the slightest. I certainly won’t be giving you a chance to escape either.” Kuuga quietly lifted his right hand. The soldiers to either side of him immediately shouldered their tanegashimas. Kuuga had already considered the possibility that the first volley wouldn’t kill Shiba, so he had immediately ordered his soldiers to prepare a second volley. Kuuga would never underestimate Shiba—would never let his guard down around his blood brother—because he knew better than anyone that Shiba was a man who would take the slightest opening and use it to cut open a path to his own survival.

However, this truly was the end for Shiba. Even if he was the greatest warrior on Yggdrasil, he had no way of resisting a salvo of gunfire aimed directly at him. “Perfect! Fire!”

Just as Kuuga had issued the order he had waited to issue for decades, the ground began to tremble violently. Kuuga lost his footing as a result of the titanic tremors and fell to his knees. This was an earthquake—one that was substantially stronger than even the most recent earthquake had been. Kuuga caught sight of Shiba dashing off in the direction of the Körmt River despite his violently shifting vision. Even amid this profound natural disaster, Shiba had found a path to survival. “You’re not getting away!” Kuuga aimed the tanegashima in his hand at Shiba. There was no way he was going to let him escape.

If he were to let him get away here, he would never again have the opportunity to kill the man he so despised. Kuuga was wholeheartedly convinced of that fact.

However, it would seem that lady luck had abandoned him once again. The sheer intensity of the quake made a large amount of water skip out of the river, and a splash landed squarely on his tanegashima. The matchlock was extinguished, and the empty click of the firelock mechanism rang hollowly in Kuuga’s ear. Sadly for him, that wasn’t the end of his misfortunes. The ground beneath Kuuga’s feet split asunder and swallowed him whole. He stopped after falling several meters, but he was wedged in so firmly that he couldn’t get himself out of the crevice. The quakes subsided soon after, but of course, Kuuga was practically blind with rage as a result of this sequence of events.

“Blast you, gods! Why are you constantly on his side?!” Why did the heavens bless Shiba so?! There was no way he could forgive such clear favoritism.

“Damn you! Damn you and your dumb luck! I will get you, Shibaaaa!” The roar of hatred that tore at his vocal cords was immediately swallowed by the sound of rushing water. The sound brought Kuuga back to his senses. It reminded him of something that always happened after an earthquake. He remembered that he was right next to the Körmt River. An enormous rush of water immediately swallowed the entire area.