Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria - Volume 21 - Chapter 2

ACT 2

“So, their cavalry have been equipped with slings to launch tetsuhaus with, huh...” Yuuto groaned when he heard the report.

At least as far as he was aware, no army in history had ever employed such a unit. The closest thing that came to mind was Mongolian cavalry. However, while the Mongolian cavalry had used tetsuhaus during their attempted invasion of Japan, there were no records that indicated they had combined them with slings. A large part of that not occurring was likely due to their culture as a nomadic horse clan that prized skill with the bow over all else. Simply throwing an object from horseback that weighed several kilograms would limit its effective range to perhaps twenty meters at most. However, using a sling would massively increase that range. Even more important was the fact that a sling could easily be wielded with one hand, which meant a rider could launch their projectiles while comfortably maintaining their grip on the horse’s reins.

“Dammit! Why didn’t I think of it first?” Yuuto clenched his fist in frustration. To him, this situation symbolized the gap he believed existed between himself and Nobunaga. The Steel Clan possessed tetsuhaus, fielded cavalry units, and even made use of slings, though, for some reason, he hadn’t thought to combine them. If he was being honest, he had dismissed slings as being too primitive to be effective weapons against the Flame Clan. Slings required a great deal of training to obtain the necessary skill to launch loaded projectiles at their intended target, not to mention the fact that, though they were much better than simply throwing an object, their range was still relatively limited. With all those factors taken into account, Yuuto had believed it was better to refine their designs for their arbalests and catapults so as to improve both their accuracy and range. That line of thinking was perfectly rational. If anything, it would have been the right decision in the long term. However, he had wrongfully discarded slings from his mind entirely.

“Slings really are a perfect weapon for a cavalry unit,” he muttered sourly.

The sheer destructive weight of a cavalry unit’s lance charge had been employed as a trump card to break through infantry formations since the earliest days of warfare. However, correctly timing a cavalry charge took a great deal of tactical acumen on the part of the commander. Simply rushing at the enemy headfirst made them easy targets for ranged attacks and spear walls.

Date Masamune had supposedly conceived horseback gunners as a method of overcoming this problem, but it hadn’t been a perfect solution. Matchlock guns could only fire a single shot from horseback, and a single volley was rarely enough to break an enemy’s line. However, tetsuhaus launched with slings would make it possible. The tetsuhaus, launched from a distance, would easily break up enemy infantry formations and allow the cavalry to perform a devastating charge into the enemy’s ranks.

“Creating something completely new by combining existing technologies... He really is a genius,” Yuuto said in awe.

His mind immediately thought back to the invention of the iPod. At the time, all of the technologies used in the iPod had already existed in Japan: touch screens, small hard drives, the necessary internet infrastructure, and a dominant market share and sales network for portable music players. The key thing that had been missing was the unique idea of combining all of those things into a new, unified device. Even if someone had come up with the idea, there hadn’t yet been a leader capable of making it a reality. The ones who truly revolutionize the world are those who possess both a great deal of creativity and the force of will to see their groundbreaking innovations through. Nobunaga was precisely that kind of person—a warlord of legendary caliber. That was the type of man Yuuto found himself facing off against.

“This is Shadow Nine. The Flame Clan Army units stationed in the east have started their advance!”

“This is Shadow Two. The Flame Clan’s western units have entered through Glaðsheimr’s western gate.”

“Tch, one thing after another,” Yuuto grumbled, letting out a dry chuckle as he listened to the reports coming in from the Vindálfs. The timing was perfect. Nobunaga had probably issued the orders just as he had deployed those red cavalrymen—meaning he was certain of the cavalry’s success.

“Big Brother, at this rate we’ll be surrounded!” Felicia said, a note of panic clearly present in her voice.

“I know,” Yuuto replied coolly.

He had known this would happen when he had learned of Nobunaga’s disposition. He had chosen to fight anyway because he had seen this as his only opportunity for victory.

“Fagrahvél! Activate your Gjallarhorn!” he yelled into his radio transceiver.

“Yes, Your Majesty!” a determined voice replied from the other side of the radio.

Gjallarhorn, the Call to War—a rune that increased an entire army’s morale and turned its soldiers into fearless berserkers who had no fear of death. It was one of the Steel Clan’s greatest trump cards. Yuuto had lost to the Flame Clan in the first Battle of Glaðsheimr despite having employed Gjallarhorn. In reality, though, that loss had occurred as a result of the Flame Clan beginning their attack before the Steel Clan formation was in place.

In a head-on battle, the quality of the Steel Clan’s soldiers was equal to their Flame Clan counterparts. If anything, given that the Flame Clan had conscripted a large number of farmers, the Steel Clan’s men, on average, were likely better trained than the Flame Clan’s. It also bore mentioning that they were fighting in the streets of Glaðsheimr, which limited the advantage provided to the Flame Clan by their massive numbers. All of this meant that Gjallarhorn would allow the Steel Clan forces to overwhelm the Flame Clan invaders. Then there was the fact that it was the main army under Nobunaga that was in front of him.

“Rún! Thír! Attack from both flanks!” Yuuto ordered.

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Understood.”

He had assigned the pair with a sizable unit each, positioned on either flank of the Flame Clan’s expected path. With his orders given, they began their advance with the intention to attack the Flame Clan on its flanks. It was a variation of Yuuto’s favored Hammer and Anvil Strategy—a maneuver he had made use of since his days as Wolf Clan patriarch.

In the grand scheme of things, the Steel Clan Army was currently surrounded by the Flame Clan’s forces. However, if the perspective was reframed to focus on the Flame Clan’s main body, then the Steel Clan Army was instead encircling the Flame Clan men. This was a golden opportunity!

He was well aware of the risks—he was facing the Oda Nobunaga, after all. There was no difference in the two armies’ equipment, and even considering just the Flame Clan’s main body, their forces still outnumbered him by roughly three times. But there was no way he could win without taking risks. Yuuto took in a breath, then shouted out as he swept his hand forward. “All forces, charge! Bring me Oda Nobunaga’s head!”

All the hairs on Nobunaga’s body stood on end when he felt it. Back when he was in Japan, Nobunaga had escaped death by a hair’s breadth numerous times. He may not have been an Einherjar, but he had a superhuman ability to sense danger. Of course, from Nobunaga’s perspective, it was those who lacked this sixth sense for danger that were the slow ones, but...

“It appears that our opponents have rallied themselves quite fiercely...” Salk observed.

“I see you’ve noticed as well, Salk,” Nobunaga replied, smiling with satisfaction at his Second’s words. There was nothing more exhausting or tedious than a conversation with someone who couldn’t understand things the way he did. Conversations with those who could understand required no explanations and left no misunderstandings. Those were the sorts of conversations Nobunaga preferred.

“From what I’ve managed to learn, this is the power of the Sword Clan patriarch Fagrahvél’s rune, Gjallarhorn,” Nobunaga stated.

“I can see why it’s often referred to as the Rune of Kings.”

“Why that particular name?” Nobunaga asked.

“Ah, it is understandable you wouldn’t know of it, My Great Lord. Gjallarhorn was the rune that the founder of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire, Wotan, possessed,” Salk explained.

“Oh? I can certainly see why it’d be easy to conquer with a power like that,” Nobunaga replied, nodding as though something had clicked in his head. The most troublesome part of battle was managing the morale of the troops. The majority of soldiers ran the moment things turned against them. This rune, however, would turn all of them into fearless warriors. Considering how primitive warfare had been in Yggdrasil when he’d arrived, that ability must have provided an overwhelming advantage.

“Unfortunately for them, they’ve overused it. I already know the rune’s weakness,” Nobunaga stated proudly as his lips curled into a devilish grin.

“By the gods! Truly?!” Salk exclaimed.

“Truly. First of all, there’s a time limit. Secondly, after its use, the troops’ fighting abilities fall precipitously. Of course, these are only based on observations, but I’m quite certain of those weaknesses,” Nobunaga declared confidently. What had cemented these conjectures in his mind were the reports he had received from the survivors of the Battle of Northern Glaðsheimr. “According to reports, the enemy soldiers suddenly grew much more vicious in the middle of the battle. However, toward the end, they’d practically returned to normal. No, if anything, they seemed like they were spent mentally and physically.”

Nobunaga had personally witnessed Gjallarhorn’s powers at the first Battle of Glaðsheimr and the report had lined up with his own observations.

“With my understanding of how I believe the Steel Clan leverages the power of Gjallarhorn, it’s likely that they see this battle as the tipping point in this campaign...” Nobunaga surmised.

He had witnessed firsthand just how good the Steel Clan was at collecting reconnaissance data, both from the siege of Gjallarbrú Fortress and from the guerrilla fighting within Glaðsheimr. No doubt they were already aware that the eastern and western divisions of the Flame Clan Army were approaching. They also had to know that encirclement was the greatest threat to them in battle. Despite that, however, they had chosen to attack. During this second Battle of Glaðsheimr, the Flame Clan had, on paper at least, been suffering a string of defeats, and it appeared as though the Steel Clan still held the initiative. However, it couldn’t have been easy for the Steel Clan. Even if they hadn’t lost many men, they had already lost a great deal of equipment, foodstuffs, gunpowder, and the use of Glaðsheimr itself as a fortress. That was why they had decided to gamble everything while they still held the momentum from their recent wins.

“Heh, until two days ago I might have humored him,” Nobunaga said with a light chuckle. He imagined in his mind’s eye what he would have said. In a battle to decide the ruler of all Yggdrasil, it was vital that he win a head-on battle against Yuuto. Or something along those lines, at least. By now, however, Nobunaga had discarded any such romanticism.

“Message to all units! Hold your formations and focus on defense! Recall Homura as well! The enemy’s momentum won’t last more than two hours. We survive that and victory is ours!” he proclaimed. He knew that the Steel Clan units would eventually weaken if he simply waited out the effects of Gjallarhorn. There was no reason for him to fight them on their terms. All he needed to do was take the time to ready the ground for victory, weaken the enemy as though smothering them, and win handily after securing the conditions he required. This method had been vital in bringing Nobunaga to the brink of conquering the known world more than once.

“All of you! Follow me!” Sigrún yelled as she spurred her horse and cut her way into the ranks of the Flame Clan Army. Her Múspells followed closely behind on foot. She would have liked to have had all of them on their familiar mounts for a full horseback charge, but the roads that made up the backstreets of the city were much too narrow to lead a large cavalry unit through them. To maintain a force large enough to stand a chance at victory here, she had to sacrifice some of their speed and power. Despite their disadvantageous setup, the Múspells charged in with a powerful roar and began to cut down Flame Clan soldiers with ease. Even on foot, they were some of the best fighters in the Steel Clan.

“Yah!”

“Guh!”

Sigrún’s spear sliced through the air and lopped an enemy’s head clean off his body. She wasn’t fighting like a woman whose dominant hand was injured. “So this is Gjallarhorn. It’s certainly quite impressive,” she observed. Sigrún reversed the swing of her spear and swung it clean through another Flame Clan soldier, nodding contentedly to herself. Not only did the rune’s power boost morale, but it also appeared to enhance physical abilities. Her spear had felt heavy in her hand since she had injured her right hand, but now it felt normal. At the very least, she wouldn’t be a burden in her current state.

“It really is! It’s like my strength is just bubbling up from deep within me. I feel like I can take out anyone like this!” Hildegard said brightly as she swung her spear in every which direction like a whirlwind of death. She was still young, in her mid-teens, but she was an Einherjar, and in terms of combat ability, she ranked only second to Sigrún among the Múspells. Well, only physically speaking, of course. With a sharp clang, Sigrún’s spear deflected a knife that was just about to hit Hildegard in the eye.

“Stay focused, Hilda! It’s when you let things go to your head that you always make stupid mistakes!” Sigrún yelled.

“I-I saw that coming! I planned to dodge it at the last second to look cool!” Hildegard replied.

“Uh-huh...” Sigrún said with a tone of skepticism.

“It’s true!” Hildegard protested.

“Even if you are telling the truth, don’t let yourself get distracted.” Sigrún then paused and, without turning her head, thrust the back end of her spear behind her. The Flame Clan soldier who had been trying to attack her from behind was thrown backward with a cry of pain. Sigrún then used that impact to land a thrust into the throat of the soldier in front of her. She pulled out the spearhead without so much as raising a brow.

“Don’t play around on the battlefield. A split-second decision can be the difference between life and death,” Sigrún barked.

“Yes ma’am...” Hildegard replied languidly.

Hildegard, annoyed about being lectured by Sigrún, took out her frustration on the soldiers in front of her, sweeping them aside together with a single swing of her spear. It was as though a giant bear had swiped the group of soldiers down. Hildegard had always been far stronger than the average Einherjar. With the effects of Gjallarhorn augmenting that strength even further, she was now supernaturally powerful.

“A-Ack...”

“W-What the hell are they...?!”

“M-Monsters!”

“The order was to hold the line, but how?!”

Even the Flame Clan soldiers, known for their bravery and toughness, found themselves on the back foot against these opponents. The pair in front of them looked to all the world like slender, beautiful young women. However, each of them fought with the strength of at least a company of normal soldiers. No matter how well-trained the Flame Clan men were, it was impossible for them to avoid feeling a sense of awe, and dread, at seeing them. As a veteran of hundreds of battles—this despite her youth—she was never going to miss the Flame Clan soldiers’ momentary lapse of composure.

“Those afar, hear my voice! Those near, witness me! I am Sigrún, Mánagarmr of the Steel Clan!” she shouted out, fanning the embers of fear that had taken root in the enemy. Her yell had its intended effect, and panic spread through the enemy ranks. “Run if you wish to live. I won’t pursue any who flee! But if you fight me, all that awaits you is death!” Sigrún continued to cut down the enemy as though to prove her words.

“Yaaaah! I am Sigrún’s protégé and the successor to the Mánagarmr, Hildegard the Flame-Haired Beast! Only those who wish to become rust on my blade should stand before me!” Hildegard, too, shouted out at the enemy from next to Sigrún. Although Sigrún had no memory of ever naming Hildegard her successor, nor had she ever heard the nickname Flame-Haired Beast, now wasn’t the time to point either of those things out. That said...

“Ahhhh!”

“Heeeelp!”

Hildegard was able to live up to that nickname. As far as pure physical strength went, Hildegard was much more powerful than Sigrún, and her mighty spear strikes were perfectly suited for taking on large groups of enemies. Furthermore, unlike when she had first joined the Múspell Unit, she wasn’t just using brute force to defeat her enemies. After more than a year of intense training under Sigrún, her spearplay now showed great mastery of technique—it was practically an art form. She also knew Sigrún’s movements and fighting style better than anyone. There was no one Sigrún could trust more to have her back.

“Yaaaah!”

“Raaaagh!”

This partnership wasn’t something rank-and-file soldiers had any hope of stopping. With the pair at the vanguard, the Múspell Unit continued cutting into the enemy lines.

However, sharp clangs of metal striking metal signaled the end of their easy advance. Two cavalrymen stood before them, blocking their spear strikes. Both wore flamboyantly red armor. One was a young man in his midtwenties, while the other was a man of around thirty with a scruffy, unkempt beard. Sigrún’s first impression was that they were large. In Yggdrasil, the average adult man’s height was around 150 centimeters, but both of the men before her were at least a head or two taller than that average. They were also extremely well-built, with hulking muscles. They clearly appeared to be of a different class of warrior than the soldiers they had been fighting to this point.

“Hraaaah!”

“Raaah!”

Sigrún stopped her mount and she exchanged several more blows with them, but her opponent stopped all of her strikes. It had been the same with Hildegard.

“Be careful, Hilda! These aren’t ordinary soldiers. They’re powerful, even compared to Einherjar like us.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious!” Hildegard said with annoyance as she crossed spears with the bearded man. Their spears clanged against one another, ricocheting backward as both Hildegard and the man were thrown off-balance. That meant Hildegard’s opponent was strong enough to match her Gjallarhorn-boosted strength.

“Let’s hear your names,” Sigrún asked as she took her distance, determining that neither would be easy to defeat. It was clear that both of them were famous Einherjar in their own right.

“It’s an honor for the famous Sigrún to ask for my name. I’m one of the Five Swords of the Flame Clan, Ryusai. I’ve wanted to fight you ever since I heard you defeated Lord Shiba,” the young man said with a friendly smile that felt extremely out of place in battle.

“My name is Arako. I, too, am one of the Five Swords of the Flame Clan,” the bearded man laconically stated his own name.

“No wonder you’re so skilled.”

The Five Swords of the Flame Clan was the name given to the five greatest warriors in the Flame Clan. The Flame Clan was a giant clan. There were at least several dozen Einherjar among their number. The Five Swords were the most elite among those. Of course they were going to be powerful.

“Hey, hey. You’ve already started without me? C’mon now, that’s no fair.”

“You’re late, Gatu.”

“You’re always so slow. Get it together.”

A third man dressed in the same crimson armor as the other two joined them. The first two were handsome men with well-proportioned bodies, but this man was short, squat, and wide. He was not to be underestimated, however. The newly arrived man, Gatu, swung his spear as though to warm up. The spear blade whistled as it cut through the air. That alone was enough to know: this man was even stronger than the first two.

“Is a victory against these men even possible? I’m still injured, and Hilda has minimal experience against opponents of this caliber...” Sigrún weighed the question in her mind. She knew from personal experience just how powerful the first among the five, Shiba, had been. Despite having only possessed a single rune, he had been a monster that was equal to, or perhaps even greater than, Steinþórr the twin-runed Einherjar. She had also heard that Hyuga, one of the Five Swords who had been at the Battle of Northern Glaðsheimr, had required the Maidens of the Waves to fight as a group to defeat him—and even then, two of them had been wounded.

These three were on the same level as those two. Although Gjallarhorn was enhancing her physical abilities, Sigrún’s right hand was injured, and as such, she could only fight with her left arm. Furthermore, they were outnumbered three to two. This seemed, by all accounts, to be a fight that would be incredibly difficult to win.

Meanwhile, Thír, who commanded the left flank, had also run into a powerful enemy.

“Aww, I came here looking for powerful people to fight, but I guess I picked the wrong army,” a girl of perhaps ten years of age, someone who looked completely out of place on the battlefield, said with a disappointed pout of her lips. Her voice and words conveyed how young she still was. However, the bodies of the Steel Clan soldiers scattered around her clearly indicated she was a dangerous opponent. She also radiated an incredibly powerful aura. Thír had never met her in person, but she knew the girl’s name: Homura. She was the beloved daughter of the enemy ruler Oda Nobunaga and a twin-runed Einherjar of extraordinary power...