Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria - Volume 19 - Chapter 1

ACT 1

“Father! The Flame Clan has begun their preparations for battle! I believe they’ll be upon us within the hour!”

“Tch. That old man is so damned aggressive! Sheesh!” Yuuto’s expression twisted into a sour scowl as he listened to Kristina’s report.

Quickly identify the enemy’s weak links, and if an opportunity to leverage them presents itself, send all of one’s forces to thoroughly exploit those openings. These particular points made up the foundations of great generalship, but being able to make that sort of decision so quickly after a giant earthquake went beyond bravery and verged on insanity. A lesser leader would have been more concerned about his own territory and chosen to withdraw in the wake of such an event. Once again, Nobunaga had lived up to the nickname of the Great Fool of Owari.

Yuuto immediately came to his decision and issued his instructions. “We’re going to withdraw to the Holy Capital for now. We have no chance of winning in a direct battle as things stand.”

While the Flame Clan’s soldiers were probably just as unsettled as his own, it was clear that his soldiers had suffered a greater shock, given that the walls that had so effectively stopped the Flame Clan assault had collapsed before their very eyes. It was also worth remembering that the Flame Clan’s force was over three times larger than the Steel Clan Army group that had been defending the walls until now. He didn’t have any plans that would allow him to make up for that disparity, and he didn’t have time to think up or prepare any. That meant that the only option that remained was to run like the wind.

“I believe it is the correct call. Who will cover the retreat?” Kristina asked.

“Let’s see...” Yuuto’s expression clouded as he struggled with the question. The troops assigned to cover the retreat would be left at the very back to hold off the advancing enemies as the rest of the army retreated. It was an extremely important role, and it was considered one of the greatest honors that could be afforded to a general, but that was in large part because it was extremely dangerous. For Yuuto, who valued the lives of his comrades, it was a difficult decision to make.

“Father, please give that role to me.” The person who stepped forward to volunteer was a strikingly handsome woman—Fagrahvél, the patriarch of the Sword Clan. “I swear that I will hold the Flame Clan attackers back until our troops can reach the Holy Capital,” Fagrahvél said calmly with a dignified air, despite the fact that she had just volunteered to undertake what was essentially a suicide mission. Her expression was that of a warrior that had steeled herself to her fate.

Yuuto placed his hand over his mouth and appeared to take a moment to think, avoiding an immediate answer. Certainly, she was well suited to the role. Maintaining the morale of the forces covering a retreat was difficult, given that they faced almost certain death. Many often broke ranks and fled in an attempt to save their own hides. Conveniently, Fagrahvél’s rune—Gjallarhorn, the Call to War—was capable of turning the rear guard’s soldiers into fearless berserkers, whether they liked it or not. No doubt the Flame Clan Army, expecting a broken and fleeing opponent, would be caught off guard by the desperate charge of a force of soldiers who were ready to embrace death. Such a force would almost certainly slow the Flame Clan Army’s pursuit.

However, even with that certainty, Yuuto found himself unable to make the decision. Though Fagrahvél was a relative newcomer to the Steel Clan, and he had only known her for a bit over a year, she was the milk sibling of Yuuto’s late wife, Sigrdrífa, and to Rífa, she had been a beloved sister and friend. On top of that, he had heard Fagrahvél had recently become close friends with his first wife, Mitsuki. He knew that it was selfish of him, particularly given that he had already ordered the deaths of many thousands of enemy soldiers, and sent countless of his own soldiers to their graves, but he still had a strong aversion to resigning someone close to him to that same fate.

Though he may not have liked it at that particular moment, Yuuto was the supreme leader of the Steel Clan. If he twiddled his thumbs and delayed his decision, that would place even more people in danger and could even cost them their lives. Regardless of what he actually wanted, he had to take responsibility and make a decision. He gritted his teeth and slowly spoke. “Very well, then...”

“Hold it right there! Allow me to take that role.” A sharp voice interrupted Yuuto before he could finish. When he turned to face the speaker, the first thing he saw was the strange sight of a mask staring back at him.

“Bi...No, Hveðrungr.” Yuuto quickly stopped himself and managed to address the man by his current name. If it was revealed that Hveðrungr was actually Yuuto’s old sworn big brother Loptr, then it was highly likely that he would be swiftly executed for the grave sin of patricide. That particular secret had to be kept at all costs.

“Uncle, this is my role. Don’t presume to snatch it from me,” Fagrahvél replied coldly and glared sharply at Hveðrungr. Although she was still in her mid-twenties, Fagrahvél was a great leader who had risen to become the patriarch of a great clan like the Sword Clan and had been chosen to lead the Anti-Steel Clan Alliance Army. The aura she exuded was so powerful that it could overwhelm and frighten even the most hardened veterans.

“You should understand your place. This sort of job isn’t suited to a child like you who must carry the future of the clan. Something like this should be left to a lowly subordinate like myself.” Hveðrungr showed no sign of caving under Fagrahvél’s glare and instead retorted with a confident smile. His bravado was certainly reminiscent of the man who, if only for a short while, had led his clan to become one of the three largest in all of Yggdrasil. This show of his bravado was also reasonably impressive, by all accounts.

Most importantly of all though, he had logic on his side. As per the established hierarchical structures of Yggdrasil’s clan system, subordinates had no right to inherit their sworn parent’s title and, on top of that, were entirely uninvolved in the governing of a clan. In the event of Hveðrungr’s death, the damage to the Steel Clan as an organization would be substantially lighter than if Fagrahvél were to fall instead. That, of course, was completely ignoring the personal pain that Yuuto would suffer if either of them were to perish.

“Now is not the time to be talking about such things. My rune’s power is perfectly suited to covering a retreat. The lives of tens of thousands of our soldiers are on the line. Please, leave this to me.” Fagrahvél, of course, wasn’t one to back down easily. While she was respectful toward him, given that Hveðrungr, as her uncle, was technically of higher status, her gaze made it absolutely clear that she considered him a nuisance and wanted him to butt out.

“I see. Do you intend to die, then?”

“If that is what must be done. If it’ll save the lives of tens of thousands of soldiers and save Father, the man Lady Rífa entrusted with the future, then my life is but a small price to pay.”

“Is that so? That’s all the more reason that we can’t leave this to you.” Hveðrungr snorted derisively as he dismissed her argument. Even the usually calm Fagrahvél found herself considerably irked by his response. It was understandable, given that he had just completely disregarded her intention to die in battle.

“That is going too far, even for an uncle! Are you mocking me?! Prepare to face me in a duel in that case!”

“That aggression is why I say you’re unsuited to the role. You’ve narrowed your perspective, and you can’t see the big picture.”

“What?!”

“By all means, with your ability, you can definitely stop the Flame Clan Army’s pursuit. But what will you do after that’s done?”

“After? That requires no explanation. I will kill as many enemies as I can for Father, the Steel Clan, and the people of Glaðsheimr that Lady Rífa loved so much. I will fight to my last breath.”

“Fool. That’s what I mean by not seeing the big picture.”

Once again, Hveðrungr made his scorn clear as he flatly dismissed Fagrahvél’s argument. Fagrahvél’s face turned crimson with anger.

“Grr! What is it that I’m not seeing, then?!”

“Let me repeat myself. What will you do after?” It seemed like his comment failed to resonate with her, and Fagrahvél furrowed her brow in frustration. Hveðrungr shrugged his shoulders in exasperation, then continued. “Their goal is the Holy Capital and the unification of Yggdrasil. Even if you delayed their advance for a while, we would soon end up having to fight them again. However, if we had just recently suffered your loss, then it would be all but impossible to raise the morale among the Steel Clan’s soldiers.”

“Right...”

Fagrahvél seemed to have accepted some of the logic behind Hveðrungr’s words, and she placed her hand over her mouth in thought. Hveðrungr followed up with further arguments. “Your rune may very well be the power best suited to rebuild our army’s morale—perhaps even the only thing capable of doing it. If we lose you here, the Steel Clan will lose the opportunity to strike back.”

“...I see.” Fagrahvél nodded, though she appeared far from pleased.

It was true, the Steel Clan had suffered a major defeat. As Hveðrungr had argued, it would be difficult to motivate the Steel Clan Army when they eventually needed to strike back against the Flame Clan. But with Fagrahvél’s rune, Gjallarhorn, they would be able to, albeit temporarily, massively boost the army’s morale. If they could use that to score a victory—even a small one—then it would go a long way to rebuilding the army’s spirits. It was also worth mentioning that if they found themselves locked into a stalemate, Gjallarhorn could be used to tilt the odds in their favor. By thinking further ahead—considering the bigger picture, as Hveðrungr had put it—it became clear to Fagrahvél that losing the Rune of Kings would be an incalculable loss to the Steel Clan. No situation thus far was desperate enough to take that risk.

“I understand what you’re saying, but can you actually stop them? With respect, you currently have no soldiers of your own, do you, Uncle? It would be difficult to cover a retreat with borrowed men.”

It bore repeating that covering a retreat placed the soldiers responsible right into the grips of almost certain death. Of course, most of the soldiers involved wouldn’t want to die; they would much prefer to return home alive if at all possible. Because of that, the trust between soldier and commander was of paramount importance. The soldiers had to believe that the man or woman leading them was someone worth dying for. Until recently, Hveðrungr had led an elite cavalry unit made up of horsemen who had been brought up on the harsh plains of Miðgarðr called the Independent Cavalry Regiment. However, it had been decimated after a flurry of tough battles, and the few who survived had been absorbed into Sigrún’s Múspell Unit, leaving Hveðrungr with no soldiers under his direct command.

“Heh, not a problem. I’m not so reckless that I’d volunteer without some expectation of success.” Hveðrungr curled his lips into a confident smirk. He was almost certainly one of the five sharpest minds in all of Yggdrasil. He had turned the tables on Yuuto several times with just his wits, even though Yuuto had access to weapons and tactics developed using knowledge that came from a time far beyond Yggdrasil’s current era. Hearing Hveðrungr make such a bold claim, Yuuto was all but certain he would fulfill the task he had taken upon himself. If he had one concern, that would be...

“You’re not planning to die yourself, are you?” Yuuto gazed intently into the eyes behind the mask. It was true that at one point he and Hveðrungr had been engaged in a bloody battle for supremacy. Hveðrungr had killed people dear to Yuuto such as Fárbauti and Olof. Yuuto would be lying if he said he held no resentment toward Hveðrungr for those things, but Yuuto himself had been the greatest reason that Hveðrungr had lost himself in his rage. To Yuuto, Hveðrungr was an important big brother who had helped him when he was still starting out, and he had so many things he wanted to talk to him about over a drink once things had settled down. More than anything though, he was the older blood brother of Felicia, who had done so much for Yuuto over the years. Despite everything, he certainly didn’t want Hveðrungr to die.

“Oh, what a ridiculous thing to ask. Do I seem such a generous man that I’d die for someone like you?” Hveðrungr snorted and said with a derisive sneer. Yuuto couldn’t help but blink in surprise as he heard that.

“Wait, Bi...Ahem, Hveðrungr. You’re forgetting your place there,” he replied, somewhat taken aback.

“Indeed. It’s one thing to speak that way to us, but to do so to Father is going much too far,” Felicia and Fagrahvél both said with a stern expression.

Yuuto was now the reginarch of the Steel Clan and þjóðann of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire. He was someone who was to be respected and worshipped—someone all citizens of Yggdrasil were to bow down to and obey unconditionally. Hveðrungr was perhaps the only man in the entirety of the Steel Clan who was willing to speak so frankly and bluntly to Yuuto.

“Hah. I guess that’s fair. You wouldn’t die for me, would you? Heheh.”

Yuuto showed no sign of anger at Hveðrungr’s disrespect, and instead laughed in amusement. Yuuto held his titles only because he wanted to protect the people dear to him. He wasn’t in his position because he wanted to be admired or worshiped. He wasn’t bothered about something so trifling as respect; he was just happy to learn that Hveðrungr had no intention of marching off to his death.

“I’ve been on something of a losing streak lately. I’ve been looking for a chance to redeem myself, and I just so happened to find the perfect opportunity. That’s all,” Hveðrungr replied.

“Perfect, eh? Hah!” Yuuto couldn’t contain his laughter, and he slapped his knee. Hveðrungr had said it so casually, even though he would be facing Oda Nobunaga and his army of over one hundred thousand. However, that nonchalance was also why he inspired so much confidence.

“You may laugh if you wish, but what about on your end? I can buy you time to escape, but that’s the most I can do. Do you have a plan for defeating the Flame Clan Army when they advance upon the Holy Capital?”

It was Yuuto’s turn to answer questions. “It’d be best if we could just leave him an empty city, but, well...” Yuuto shrugged with a dry laugh. Yuuto’s ultimate goal was to simply move all of his people to the new land. There was nothing better than achieving that end without fighting.

“Likely not possible. In terms of timing, the people of Álfheimr haven’t gotten through Bifröst yet, I would think. Even if you could fully evacuate the Holy Capital before the Flame Clan Army reached it, they would have enough momentum to follow you all the way to Jötunheimr and cut you down,” Hveðrungr explained.

“...You’re right.” Yuuto frowned sourly and nodded. Hveðrungr was perhaps the best at identifying enemy weaknesses among the Steel Clan’s generals. He was able to precisely point out the flaw in Yuuto’s wishful thinking. Of course, there was a logistical problem involved in extending supply lines that far, but according to Kristina’s investigations, the Flame Clan had a powerful Einherjar who could massively increase the Flame Clan’s ability to produce food and gunpowder. Not only that, but the Holy Capital was almost entirely deserted, meaning that Nobunaga would face none of the difficulties often associated with ruling over a newly-conquered territory.

The emigration plan from Jötunheimr to Europe would take, at a minimum, another six months to a year. That meant that it was more than possible for the Flame Clan Army to finish the necessary preparations and march on Jötunheimr in an attempt to fully unify Yggdrasil. If that were to happen, and if the Steel Clan forces were forced to flee after a series of inevitable defeats, their morale would be at rock bottom, which would make any meaningful resistance difficult.

“We need to figure out some way to beat them...” Yuuto scratched at his head as he tried to come up with a way to deal with this rather bothersome problem. Honestly, he didn’t really want to think about it. Since he had to, though, he had no choice but to suck it up and come up with a solution.

“Based on your expression, it seems as though you’ve got something special in mind.”

“Well, yeah. I can’t very well face off against that monster with just a single solution.”

The idea Yuuto had come up with was to layer two or three different plans as contingencies. He had already anticipated the possibility of Nobunaga breaking through the Gjallarbrú Fortress, and he had set up a contingency plan. Of course, he hadn’t expected it to be a giant earthquake that would end up taking down the fortress.

“I see. Then I’ll go do my job and put my hopes in your next plan.” Hveðrungr nodded his acceptance of Yuuto’s explanation and turned to leave.

“Hold up, Brother,” Yuuto called out to him to stop him from leaving. Hveðrungr tilted his head quizzically as Yuuto held out his fist to him. “Make sure you come home alive.”

“Ah, that’s right... We did this back then, didn’t we?” Hveðrungr briefly blinked his eyes before letting out a faintly sarcastic snort. He was referring to when he was still Loptr, Second of the Wolf Clan.

“Yeah, and you came home safely. It’s a ritual of sorts.”

“We were routed in that battle though.”

“That’s fine. We’ve already lost this battle, remember?”

“I might very well betray you after the battle.”

“Hah, I’ll give you a front-row seat to an amazing reversal that’ll rob you of any desire to do that.”

“Oh? That’s quite the claim you’re making. Then I’ll have to sit and watch. You’ve made a bold claim. If you fail, I’ll make sure to laugh at you.” Hveðrungr’s lips twisted into a teasing smirk as he bumped his fist against Yuuto’s. As Felicia watched the pair, tears welled in her eyes.

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the continent...

Albertina sniffed at the air from atop the quarterdeck of the Galleon-class ship Noah before letting out a gleeful shout of triumph. “It’s the wind from the city! It’s almost time for fooooood!”

It had been nearly twenty days since they had set out from the port city of Njǫrðr on the western edge of Yggdrasil with the civilian population of the Panther Clan aboard. Over that entire journey, they hadn’t stopped to resupply once. While Albertina liked being aboard the ship and thoroughly enjoyed the briny scent of the sea breeze, the food available to her there was generally preserved foodstuffs that had been stocked specifically with long-term storage for long voyages in mind. That was not to mention that rations were severely restricted for the duration of the voyage since they had nearly a thousand civilians on board who also needed feeding. Albertina was well known for her love of food, and she was longing to sit down and fill herself up with a big, proper meal.

“I still don’t understand how you do it, Miss Admiral. I don’t notice anything different ’bout it. So, what’s different about the wind from the city?” The question came from the ship’s captain. A hint of admiration could be noticed in his words. He was a rugged boulder of a man in his mid-thirties and looked much like one would expect a man of the sea to.

“Well, um... I can tell there’s a whoooole lot of people there! The bustle and the smells of those people are all carried on the wind.”

“Is that so? Sniff sniff... No, it still just smells like regular old sea air to me, ma’am.”

One of the sailors nearby casually jumped into the conversation. “You really surprised? Miss Admiral’s blessed by the goddess of the wind, after all.” After a moment, he continued. “I mean, if I were a god, I’d definitely prefer our adorable little Miss Admiral over a greasy middle-aged man like you, Cap’n.”

“Hah! ’Course!” The captain laughed off the sailor’s remark with a loud guffaw.

Albertina was still in her mid-teens and was well known for her laid-back demeanor. She both looked and acted younger than her actual age. However, she was also an Einherjar with the rune Hræsvelgr, Provoker of Winds. Because she possessed that particular rune, she was far more attuned to the wind than most people. That was a large contributing factor as to why she had been assigned to lead the shipping convoy that held the key to the Steel Clan’s survival.

“Ahh, finally!” Ingrid said, appearing from the shade under the mizzenmast. While Galleon-class ships were incredibly large, a mere five of them weren’t nearly enough to carry the hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people that needed to be evacuated from Yggdrasil. Ingrid and her shipwrights had been brought aboard so that they could work toward building as many new ships as they could once they reached the eastern region of the continent.

“I’ve missed the land more than I’ve missed the food.” Ingrid sighed out the words with a worn expression. Given that they had been at sea for nearly twenty days, she had eventually overcome her seasickness, but even then, it was difficult for her to get used to the fact that the deck beneath her was in constant motion. Not only that, but she had been bored out of her mind. While she had tried to keep herself occupied with the games Yuuto had invented—which included things like playing cards, reversi, and chess—most of the people around her were seamen, blessed with more brawn than brains. They were hardly satisfying opponents to play against, and having quickly tired of trying to get a good game out of them, Ingrid had resorted to spending most of her days just staring out at the vast expanse of the ocean or napping in her hammock.

“Heh, seems that’s the case for all of our guests below deck as well. Honestly, I was a bit worried they might riot. It’s a relief to know we might safely reach our destination.” The captain let out a sigh of relief, the fatigue visible on his features.

Currently, the people of the Panther Clan on board were living below deck, crammed together like sardines. While they were allowed up on deck for fresh air and exercise, even with that small reprieve, they were still reduced to living in the cramped confines of the holds most of the time. There had been a fair amount of grumbling coming from their ranks.

“I mean, I’m glad we told them this trip would take about a month, but if we’d gone even a day beyond that, I reckon they’d have us hanging from the masts...” The captain said as he drew his thumb across his throat. While he was half-kidding, there was more than a little bit of genuine anxiety tinging his words. Ingrid had picked up on that, and she swallowed nervously in response.

“As soon as we get to port, I’ll start mass-producing games to keep people occupied while they’re aboard. It’ll help a little bit, or so I hope...”

“Sounds good. We need to do something, that’s for sure,” the captain said with conviction. There were far more passengers aboard than sailors. Even the slightest possibility of a mutiny from them was more than enough to frighten the daylights out of the captain. He was elated at the prospect of having anything—even something as minor as board games—that could reduce the chances of that happening by even a whisker. “Guess we should let the guests down below know. You there. Head on down and tell our guests we’re getting close to port,” the captain instructed a nearby sailor.

“Aye, sir!”

“Wait!” Albertina stopped the sailor just as he was about to dash off below deck.

“Al?” Ingrid furrowed her brow as she looked in Albertina’s direction. The Albertina that Ingrid knew was a constantly hungry girl who was always smiling. Her expression now, however, was far removed from the cheery one she usually wore. The current look on her face was one of great concern.

“Turn this ship around! We’re heading back out to sea for a bit! Let the other ships know as well! Hurry!” Albertina quickly issued her instructions.

“Wh-What’s going on?! What’s wrong, Al?!” Ingrid asked with an expression of shock, but the sailors around her moved without pause.

“Roger that! You heard Miss Admiral, boys! Bring her about! Get the message to the other ships too!”

“Already on it!”

“C’mon lads! Haul in the fore main spanker!”

“Haul in the fore main spanker!”

The sailors shifted from their relaxed expressions to ones of tense readiness. They rapidly echoed the instructions they were given and made quick work of their tasks. Although they were heading back out to sea with the port close by, not a single one of them questioned their orders. If Albertina wanted them to hurry, they knew they had to move as quickly as possible. They knew the importance of doing so from their accumulated experience.

“Wow...” Ingrid could only let out a tone of admiration as she watched the well-oiled movements of the sailors on deck as they went about their duties. It was hard to believe they had only been serving as a crew for a little over six months. With the wind on their side, the convoy was able to quickly head out from the port and toward the open sea. Suddenly, the air was filled with the heavy rumble of waves approaching them from a distance. A surging wave caught the ship, causing it to bob up and down violently.

“Whoa!”

“That’s a big ’un.”

“First time I’ve ever felt her move like this.”

The sailors stared wide-eyed at the sea. The wave that had caught them steadily made its way toward the port. It quickly gained both size and force as it headed closer to the shore. The giant wave twisted and surged onward as it grew.

“I-It’s a tsunami!”

“I-It’s enormous.”

“Yeah, if we’d been swallowed by that, we would’ve been done for.”

Once again, the sailors could only manage to gawk as they made various comments. Their faces turned pale as the color drained from their features. For some of the sailors, they couldn’t stop their teeth chattering out of fear. If they had been even a few minutes late in turning around, the entire convoy would have been wiped out without a trace. With the adrenaline from having survived the tsunami still running in their veins, the sailors began to praise Albertina.

“Three cheers for Miss Admiral!”

“Damn right! She’s our goddess!”

“Sieg Miss Admiral! Sieg Miss Admiral!”

“Wh-What the heck...?” Ingrid stared in slack-jawed shock as the men chanted their almost religious devotion to Albertina. It made no sense to her, given that she had known Albertina before she had been appointed Admiral. If anything, she felt a bit creeped out about the whole thing. At any rate, Albertina and the convoy had somehow escaped unscathed, and the ironclad connection between the sailors and their worship of Albertina had grown stronger for it.

“Get a move on with those damage reports! Tell the supply units to bring bandages and distilled spirits for sterilization to each company. There’s also a very real possibility of aftershocks. Make certain you tell the troops to stay away from the river banks!”

To the west, near the Wolf Clan capital of Iárnviðr, Linnea was caught up dealing with the aftermath of the great earthquake. She quickly issued instructions to her subordinates.

“Impressive, Princess. You’ve handled this sudden disaster quickly, and with such grace. You’ve certainly grown.” Rasmus nodded in satisfaction as he stood off to the side and watched Linnea issuing her orders. It was originally believed that he had been slain during the Siege of Fort Gashina, but he had survived as one of Kuuga’s prisoners of war and had just returned to Linnea’s side.

“If that’s true, then it’s all thanks to you, Rasmus.”

“Pardon? All I did was watch over you.”

“Exactly. There’s nothing more reassuring than having you by my side,” Linnea, though looking somewhat tired, replied with a happy smile. Rasmus had been her teacher and greatest supporter since her birth, and he was effectively a second father to her. Having him at her side made the entire situation feel more bearable. Linnea was certain that she would have been in a greater panic if he hadn’t been here with her.

“Heh, such modesty. You’ve grown enough to no longer need me, Princess. As proof, you fought back the army of Shiba, the Flame Clan’s greatest general.”

“Father was responsible for most of it. I wouldn’t have been able to do it on my own.” What Linnea had said to Rasmus wasn’t born of modesty; it was exactly how she felt. The deciding factor in this most recent battle had been Yuuto’s scheme—the insane plan that had brought about Kuuga’s defection. It was precisely because Shiba had believed Kuuga was an ally that he had allowed Kuuga to place his forces on either side of his own army. Beset on all sides, even a general as great as Shiba had no way to wrest victory out of the jaws of defeat. To Linnea, that meant that the battle had been decided even before the first shots had been fired, and it was a battle that could’ve been won regardless of who had been in command.

“You’re still excessively hard on yourself.”

“You’re the one who raised me to be this way. Besides, people don’t change that significantly over just a handful of months. That’s quite enough of that though...” Linnea waved her hand dismissively before she shifted her gaze to her left, furrowing her brow in concern. There was a wall of dirt that was around the height of three or four grown men. She then turned her gaze to her right. There she found a giant crevice in the ground that was large enough to swallow not just people, but even horses and cattle. Both of those features hadn’t existed a mere half an hour ago. They were a graphic demonstration of the sheer intensity of the recent earthquake. She couldn’t help but think about the damage that such a quake had wrought on the rest of the continent. “Is everyone okay?” she asked nervously.

“Rest assured, they’re fine. Your instructions were quick and concise. I’m certain it was enough to keep the damage to a minimum.”

“I can only hope.” Linnea’s expression remained troubled even after Rasmus offered her words of consolation. While she hoped that he was right, Linnea was also well aware that reality was often a harsh mistress, one who delighted in cruelly crushing such hopes on a whim. All she could do for the moment was grip her hands tightly into fists and wait. As the seconds and minutes seemed to drag on for an eternity, a red-haired girl on horseback came dashing over. While Linnea wasn’t particularly close to her, she recognized the rider’s face. If she recalled correctly, the girl on horseback was Hildegard, Sigrún’s protégé.

“Second! Do you know what’s happened to Mother Rún?!” Hildegard asked immediately as she hopped off her horse, a tense expression dominating her features. Linnea felt her heart skip a beat.

“Mother Rún...? You mean Sigrún?” Linnea asked in return, doing her best to conceal her anxiety. A strong leader needed to always remain calm and show no sign of concern. Even the slightest sign of anxiety from those at the top quickly filtered down to the rank and file.

“Yes. She had gone off ahead to chase after Shiba, but she got swallowed by the overflowing river...”

“Ah!” Linnea sucked in a breath as she listened to Hildegard’s report. She felt the color draining from her cheeks. Sigrún was the greatest general in the Steel Clan, and she was the clan’s goddess of victory who had taken the heads of enemy generals when they most needed it. She ranked second only to Yuuto in terms of her importance to the morale and confidence of the common soldiers. If she was gone, it would be an incalculable loss to the Steel Clan’s strength. Linnea herself had known her for nearly four years and grown close to her, seeing her as a friend who shared her loving admiration of Yuuto. She was also aware that despite Sigrún’s reserved features, she had her adorable side. Could Sigrún have possibly...? Just thinking about that made Linnea’s teeth chatter and her knees wobble in fear. Unfortunately, though, bad news often came in waves.

“I bring a message!” A horseback soldier who appeared to be a messenger rushed in yelling. Linnea couldn’t shake the dread she felt at his arrival. “L-Lord Kuuga has died! He was swallowed by a crevice that had been opened by the quake, and when the river overflowed, he drowned in the flood!”

“Tch!”

Linnea felt a sharp pain squeeze at her chest. She couldn’t help but press her palm to it. Kuuga himself was, in the end, a defector—a general who had betrayed his master. While she felt gratitude toward him for saving Rasmus’s life, she had never even met him face to face. She knew it was heartless, but she didn’t feel much pain at learning of his death. The issue was that he had drowned. Try as she might to prevent it, she couldn’t stop herself from imagining that the same fate might very well have befallen Sigrún.

“I see. Thank you for bringing that to our attention.” As Linnea stood in stunned silence, Rasmus thanked the messenger in her stead. That quickly brought Linnea back to her senses, and she bit down sharply on her lower lip. She still had some trouble dealing with unexpected developments like these.

“I can’t let this get to me! Worrying and mourning can come later. I’m the supreme commander here!” She harshly chided herself silently and raised her head. There was no longer any trace of confusion or uncertainty on her features.

“I shall be off, then,” the messenger stated as he turned to leave. Linnea stopped him as he did so. “Hold on a moment. Who’s currently commanding Lord Kuuga’s forces?” she asked.

“Lady Röskva, the current patriarch of the Lightning Clan, is doing so, My Lady,” the messenger responded.

“That’s the woman who served as Steinþórr’s Second, is it not?” Steinþórr had only ever been fascinated with battle. Linnea had heard that Röskva had essentially served as the Lightning Clan’s political leader, a role that the Dólgþrasir was wholly uninterested in fulfilling. Her presence was a silver lining, given the circumstances. In the wake of this major natural disaster, what they needed most was someone like Röskva, rather than another cunning general. “Very well, then. We’ll send several supply units to them. Tell her to focus her attention on saving as many people as possible.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“Hildegard!”

“Y-Yes, ma’am!” Having suddenly been addressed, Hildegard straightened to attention.

“As far as Sigrún is concerned, we haven’t yet received any reports about her. We didn’t even know she’d been carried off by the flood.”

“Oh, I see...” Hildegard said softly in disappointment.

Linnea, however, continued calmly and confidently. “Remember this: she is the Mánagarmr. A mere flood isn’t enough to kill someone like her. She is the Steel Clan’s greatest warrior. I’m certain she’s alive.”

“Y-You’re right!”

“Of course. Still, she may very well be injured. You’re to immediately head downstream to look for her. I’m told your nose and ears are exceptionally sharp. You are perfectly suited for this task.”

“Th-That’s a great point. I totally didn’t think of that! I’m such a dummy! I should’ve sent someone else to report to headquarters!” Hildegard ruffled her own hair roughly—apparently, the thought had only just occurred to her. She must have been in quite a panic for that option to have slipped her mind until now.

It was unavoidable, in a way. Much like Linnea herself had experienced many times before, most people lost sight of the big picture and had their minds tend to go blank when they were suddenly exposed to life-threatening situations. However, people like Yuuto and Sigrún could make calm and collected decisions under such circumstances. They were quite unusual in that regard, and rather remarkable for it. “I-I’ll go look for her!”

“Please do. I leave that task to you. We’ll put together a search party and send them after you as soon as they’re ready.”

“Yes, ma’am!” With that answer, Hildegard quickly hopped back on her horse and rode off in a hurry.

As she watched Hildegard leave, Linnea gritted her teeth. She had meant it when she told Hildegard that Sigrún would have survived. After all, the battle against the Flame Clan was still raging in the Ásgarðr region. It wouldn’t be possible to win it without Sigrún’s strength. They couldn’t afford for her to die before they’d completed their mission. More than anything though, Linnea didn’t want to see Yuuto have to deal with the sudden loss of a loved one ever again.

“You better come home alive, Sigrún!”

“One danger leaves, and another takes its place.”

Sigrún drew the blade on her hip as she looked over the opponent in front of her. She had somehow managed to survive the flooding river water by grabbing a piece of driftwood, only to find a crimson war demon waiting for her on the shore, glaring at her with an enormous aura of hostile intent. That demon was none other than Shiba the Berserker General. He was the most famous of the Flame Clan Army’s generals, and he was also the single greatest warrior among the Flame Clan’s ranks. No, with the Dólgþrasir’s death, Shiba was almost certainly the most powerful warrior in all of Yggdrasil.

“Perhaps I should run?”

As a warrior, Sigrún wanted to avenge her loss to him. But, at the same time, she felt that she was still far from his match in terms of skill. Sigrún, as the Steel Clan’s Mánagarmr, the Strongest Silver Wolf, had the responsibility to lead and support the soldiers of the clan as they went into battle. That meant she needed to survive and return to the Steel Clan at all costs.

“...Still, that’ll be difficult.”

To her left was the Körmt River, while to her right was a crevice formed by the earthquake that had filled with water. That meant that even if she ran to her rear, she would find her path blocked. And, of course, standing before her was Shiba himself. She had nowhere to run.

“What is it? Are you, the mighty Mánagarmr, actually afraid? I suppose that’s understandable. You surely must have realized how much more powerful I was during our last encounter. You may run if you wish, Most Cowardly Little Mutt.” It seemed Shiba had seen Sigrún’s eyes flit from side to side. He laughed at Sigrún mockingly.

“Not a particularly good attempt at a taunt, I must say.” Sigrún snorted softly in derision. By her reckoning, Shiba appeared to prioritize his identity as an individual warrior over the fact that he was a general. She had gotten the same impression the last time they had fought. He probably felt this would be his last opportunity to go up against her one-on-one, and he was trying his best to goad her into fighting him.

“Heh, not quite good enough to have you fight me, I suppose?” Shiba replied.

“Certainly not, but I’ll fight you regardless. If I let you live and return to your clan, it might very well create a much larger problem for Father in the future.” Following that comment, Sigrún drew her beloved blade and readied herself.

Shiba was a man who had escaped a complete encirclement by virtue of his own individual fighting ability. It was obvious that if he returned to Nobunaga’s side and was given command of a division, he would be a serious threat to Yuuto. Not to mention, Sigrún had nowhere to run. As such, she dismissed the option of escape and instead focused on defeating him here and now.

“I’m grateful. In that case... Shall we begin?!” With a powerful shout, Shiba stepped forward. He brought his blade down, aiming at her neck. Sigrún blocked the blow and countered with a slash at his flank. However, Shiba jumped backward and easily avoided the attack.

“Yah!”

Sigrún lunged forward, as though to say it was her turn, and brought down her blade in an overhead slash. Shiba easily blocked the blow with his blade and immediately moved to counter it. Sigrún dodged the blow and unleashed a counter of her own.

“Something’s not right... What is it?!”

Even as they exchanged blows in this intense duel, Sigrún sensed something was off. Shiba’s movements felt slower than before. They continued to exchange several dozen more blows.

“He’s definitely slower than before...”

Last time, he had been superior to her in almost every aspect she could think of, and he had seemingly toyed with her during their battle. Now, however, they were fighting on equal terms. Some part of that was thanks to the sodden ground and the fact that his clothes were soaked through, but those same disadvantages were also applicable to Sigrún. Shiba wasn’t weaker; Sigrún had simply grown stronger since then.

“The tension is gone from your movements. They’re much smoother. Heheh, you’ve gotten much stronger in the three months since we last fought.” As though to prove that point, Shiba chuckled in enjoyment as they exchanged blows.

Sigrún had some idea of the cause. It was very likely down to the fact that she had learned to relax—to let the tension out of her shoulders—when she had been buried in her own stress and panic during her recent struggles. Soon after she had learned to do so, she had managed to increase the sharpness of her movements, and she had been able to overwhelm Hildegard despite the girl’s superior physical abilities. It was all thanks to her finally learning that it was okay for her to give herself a break.

“I have you to thank for that.” With that, Sigrún drew back her sword and turned to face Shiba sidelong.

“Mmph?!” Shiba, who had been pressing forward with his upper body, wobbled for the faintest of moments. Sigrún spun as she drew backward, and she aimed her elbow at Shiba’s cheek. She had determined that if she attacked with her sword, the added delay would give Shiba sufficient time to respond. However, even with her faster movement, Shiba was able to twist his neck to avoid her elbow at the last moment.

After that, the pair began to exchange sword strikes once again. During that exchange, however, Sigrún avoided taking his strikes head-on. As much as she hated to admit it, Shiba was still the physically stronger warrior. For that reason, she made sure to simply deflect the force of his attacks. To do so, she was making use of what could possibly be considered the ultimate technique—the Willow Technique—that her master, Skáviðr, had instilled in her.

“Ah, so that’s what it is...” Sigrún’s lips curled into a faint smile. She had, of course, known about the technique and used it in the past. However, there was also a part of her that was fully aware that she wasn’t able to make the best use of it. Although she could use it perfectly in practice or against opponents of inferior skill, she had almost never been able to make use of it in actual combat, particularly against more powerful opponents. At most, she had used it to surprise an opponent and create an opening. It was a far cry from the mastery of the technique that Skáviðr had displayed countless times.

But now, she fully understood the technique. At times, during a great storm, the stoutest trees might snap and fall, but the simple blades of grass would hold fast by bending in the wind. The excess tension she had let build up in her body until just recently had robbed her of the flexibility needed to make use of the technique.

“Yaaah!”

“Nrrmph!”

The exchange of blows grew in intensity. Shiba’s battle techniques showed a reasonable amount of mastery thanks to his efforts to practice and improve them. As a result, she wasn’t able to take him off balance, but just being able to deflect his powerful blows was plenty good enough. If she had attempted to block them normally, her fingers would have quickly grown numb from the shocks. Like this, she was able to exchange blows with him on equal footing. No, if anything—

“I can beat him.”

Even in the midst of this battle, of fighting at the very limit of her skill, a certain confidence began to take root in Sigrún. It was only by the faintest of margins—a barely conceivable advantage—but Sigrún was on the offensive. She was well aware that it was too early to be making judgments like that, as they hadn’t yet entered the Realm of Godspeed. That said, if they were both making use of the benefits it granted, then the gap in their skill levels shouldn’t change. Right now, even the slightest misjudgment or delay in reaction would quickly flip the outcome in her opponent’s favor. She couldn’t let her guard down for even a moment. Despite that, she could see a path to victory. Given that she didn’t believe it possible to win at all in their last encounter, this was a remarkably impressive progression.

“Hyah!”

Sigrún let out a sharp shout and brought down her blade, but Shiba jumped backward to avoid her slash.

“I’ve pushed him back...!”

Shiba’s movement created a particularly opportune opening. Even if she could fight him on equal footing, Shiba was able to remain in the Realm of Godspeed far longer than she could. Additionally, he may have mastered additional fighting skills that she wasn’t yet aware of. While Sigrún had no problem with enjoying a sparring session, she wasn’t such a battle junkie that she was interested in duels to the death.

“Yah!”

Sigrún was determined to finish things here. Her next attack was intended to bring the battle to an end. She lunged forward with a powerful thrust. She had timed it perfectly...

“Wha?!”

However, the tip of her blade had been completely blocked by Shiba’s own. He had blocked her immensely precise thrust with the thin cross section of his blade. It was something he wouldn’t have been able to do unless he had completely read Sigrún’s attack.

“Heh. It definitely seems like you’ve gotten stronger. Really, though, is this it?”

The moment Shiba’s lips twisted into a devious smirk, Sigrún felt a sudden chill run up her spine, and she hurriedly jumped backward. Sigrún’s rune, Hati, Devourer of the Moon, made her extremely sensitive to dangerous situations. That rune was now sounding the loudest alarm bells she had ever experienced.

“You...were holding back?” Sigrún asked, her features furrowing into a scowl. For an opponent to hold back was the greatest insult that a warrior could incur in battle.

“I wasn’t. Your last attack was, indeed, very impressive. Witnessing that blow, though, is exactly why I believe it’d be best for us both to fight with everything we have. Don’t you agree?” Shiba tapped his feet against the ground. She immediately knew what he was referring to. They had left the river bank and were now on dry, firm ground.

“So, you drew me out this far, huh...” Sigrún growled with a bitter scowl on her face. One wrong step would have led to death. Despite that, he was able to pull off a trick like this. It was clear to Sigrún that there was still a massive difference in skill between the pair.

“Your body’s warmed up after that little dip you took, right? In that case, shall we begin our duel for real?” An immense fighting aura flared out of Shiba. The sheer intimidating presence that she felt was much more powerful than it had been earlier. It was as though he were signaling that he was now fighting at full strength.

“There’s this much of a gap between us still?! Can I even beat this monster...?”

Sigrún felt her conviction waver. She was sure she had begun to close the skill gap between them. However, it was precisely for that reason that she was more aware of the gulf that remained. She knew now that her ace in the hole wouldn’t work. There was no longer any path to victory for her.