Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria - Volume 24 - Chapter 4.2

Nozomu wasn’t going to let Jorgen die just yet—as long as Jorgen still had a reason to live, that was all that mattered.

“By the by, where’s Father at? I don’t see him.” Jorgen asked as he scanned the area. The only one Jorgen ever called “Father” was none other than Suoh Yuuto.

“Oh, he’s currently attending the wedding of Thutmose III, pharaoh of Kemet,” Nozomu said with a shrug. His father had received a formal invitation from the Orient the other day and had decided to attend, saying it’d be rude to refuse. In truth, Yuuto had been about to let Nozomu handle that matter as well and send him in his stead, but Nozomu had rejected that proposal, stating that he didn’t feel he was quite ready to handle something like that yet.

“I see, I see. Well, it’s a shame that Father’s not here, but sending Lord Nozomu as his representative is a most welcome surprise. And so soon after I sent out the missive!”

“‘Missive’?” Nozomu parroted in bewilderment. “What missive?” This was the first he’d heard of it. He stole a quick glance at Rungr, but Rungr just shook his head. He didn’t know either.

“What? You didn’t hear? Oh... I see. Most likely, Father wanted you to look at this situation from an unbiased perspective.”

“An unbiased’... Ah, yeah, wouldn’t put it past him. Dad can be a real jerk like that sometimes,” Nozomu replied with a click of his tongue.

Going into a situation with a preconceived notion could be surprisingly dangerous. For instance, if you were told that an art piece was valued at a hundred gold coins, you might end up seeing a mere kid’s drawing as the work of a genius. Conversely, if it was said to be valued at only a single gold coin, you could accidentally write off a genuine masterpiece as worthless trash. Most likely, Yuuto wanted his children to see the current state of Tarshish for themselves, without any preconceptions.

“So, what did you think?” Jorgen asked. “I’m sure you took a look before coming here.”

“Yeah, we did. In the five years since we left, it’s completely gone to seed. What happened, anyway?” Nozomu asked, a stern expression on his face. Whatever it was, it was nothing as simple as a famine or a breakdown of trade negotiations. The government had chosen to prioritize their own interests over the safety of the people.

“This isn’t the nation our dad founded anymore,” Nozomu spat in disgust. He didn’t believe a king should necessarily devote himself selflessly to the people—it made sense to Nozomu that a ruler should be able to indulge in a bit of luxury every once in a while. It wasn’t realistic to hope for a utopia, and doing so would only serve to distort the monarchy. Even so, what he’d witnessed in Tarshish was just despotic—that was the only word for it, really.

“Well said. And unfortunately, all of it is due to my own shortcomings and lack of foresight.” Jorgen bowed deeply. His regret and guilt were practically written on his downcast face. Then, after raising his head, he began to explain. “It all started about three years ago...”

The rule of the second reginarch of the Steel Clan, Babel, had gone without a hitch for the first year. The people had rejoiced from the bottom of their hearts at the defeat of the demonic tyrant Suoh Yuuto and had welcomed the hero Babel with open arms as their new king. Babel, for his part, had listened intently to his adviser Jorgen’s advice and worked tirelessly to perform his duties. Jorgen had thought things would go just as swimmingly from here on out, but at the start of the second year, the wheels began to come off.

According to Jorgen, Babel had tried as hard as he could to make everything work, but his subjects eventually began to voice their displeasure at their unimproved living conditions. In turn, Babel became disappointed with his subjects, which turned to dissatisfaction and eventually hatred. By the third year, Babel had started to distance himself from Jorgen’s incessant nagging and scolding, instead surrounding himself with yes-men whose words were always positive and made him comfortable.

“Looking back on it now, that was when I should’ve alerted Father to what was going on,” Jorgen muttered as he looked up at the ceiling, no doubt chiding himself for his past actions. Back when he was in Yggdrasil, Jorgen had seen the strength of youth overcome hardship and beget outstanding growth more times than he could count. He’d probably realized that in his old age, he couldn’t continue to advise the monarchy forever, and he had naively hoped that he could leave everything up to the youth without issue.

Unfortunately, as a result of that decision, things only went from bad to worse. Babel began extorting his subjects, distributing the wealth not among the collective people, but solely between him and his entourage as he became richer and richer. He began building statues of himself throughout the land, as if boasting to the public about the authority he held, and he worked his subjects to the bone to construct massive ziggurats in his own honor.

By this point, Jorgen had realized Babel was not fit to rule, and the “kingly quality” Jorgen had mistaken Babel’s ambitiousness for had been nothing more than an illusion. The truth was that Babel had no business being a king.

“Of course, these old bones didn’t have the power to rescind Babel’s inauguration as reginarch. Shameful and pathetic as it was, especially for one entrusted with the clan’s future, I finally decided to write to Father asking for aid.”

“I see now. I’m sorry that you had to shoulder that entire burden by yourself. Allow me to apologize on behalf of my dad.” Seeing Jorgen lower his head once more, Nozomu also bowed deeply in apology. Truthfully, Jorgen was at the age where he should’ve used the transfer of power as an opportunity to retire. But without anyone else to entrust the prosperity of the clan to, Jorgen had been saddled with a task beyond his capability. Nozomu wanted to reward Jorgen’s efforts, rather than chastise them.

“Lord Nozomu, your kind words are wasted on the likes of me.”

“I believe I understand the situation now. I’ll report this to my dad as soon as possible and get him to come up with a plan to fix this.” Nozomu assured Jorgen that he would take it from here. He didn’t think for a second that Yuuto would leave his former country high and dry, but even if he attempted to, Nozomu would do something about it. Such was the level of resolve with which Nozomu spoke those words.

“So, that’s the situation, is it? We can’t just leave it be, then,” Yuuto muttered with a troubled expression, bringing his hand to his chin.

Nozomu and his siblings had returned home to their base of operations in the Cyclades and reported the news to Yuuto. He was already pushing forty by this point, but his face had retained enough of its youthful vigor that he could pass for someone in his twenties. Perhaps abdicating the throne and leading a life of leisure had had a hand in that.

“Yeah, we can’t let Babel have his way with the Steel Clan any longer. I’ll do all I can to help, dad. Please let me help you!” Nozomu clung to Yuuto in desperation. He couldn’t bear to see his hometown sullied like this, and his righteous indignation was rousing him to action.

“Hmm... You’re right in that the longer we leave this be, the worse it’s going to become. We need to take care of it as soon as possible. But simply defeating Babel won’t be enough to take care of the problem.”

“Yeah. By defeating him, we’d needlessly throw the country into unrest, right?” Nozomu asked.

Yuuto nodded. Babel was a tyrant, there was no doubt about that. The people would never be able to live in peace under his rule. However, he was also strong enough that he didn’t need to rely on others. At present, he was the youngest to have been blessed with a rune—in other words, he was the last Einherjar. He’d been capable enough in battle to be called a mighty warrior, boasting valor that went unparalleled. As a king, he’d kept the nation together by using that strength to instill fear in his subjects. If Babel was removed from the picture, no doubt the patriarchs of each land would be lining up to try to become the next reginarch, throwing the nation into an era of chaos and bloodshed. That would be a far more potent source of misfortune for the people than remaining under the thumb of a tyrant. If it was only going to lead to the death of more innocents in the end, there was no point. Nozomu wasn’t a kid anymore, so even he could understand that much.

“What if...I became the reginarch?” The moment Nozomu uttered those words, he was surprised at himself. “What the hell are you saying?!” The thought had come out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “You think someone as inexperienced as you could become a king? How ridiculous. You ought to blow your own place by now. ” He berated himself with one insult after another in his head.

Yuuto, on the other hand, just stared at Nozomu in shock. He was probably thinking along the same lines, appalled at the hubris of his own son. Nozomu was overcome with embarrassment.

“L-Look, I know already. I know I’m not ready. I know I lack the strength!” Quickly, he began to try to smooth it over, not knowing what else to do. He was so ashamed that he wished there was a hole nearby he could crawl into. And yet...

“But I still want to be able to do something... I want to do all I possibly can!” His mouth was practically running on its own by this point. “I know I don’t have the strength. But I’ll make up for that with effort! I’ll work myself to the bone!” He knew he was just rambling like a child by now, but his mouth kept going, as if a dam had burst and all his thoughts and feelings were spilling out.

He’d already given up once because he’d convinced himself that he had no choice but to abandon that dream. At the time, he’d lacked the strength to make it happen. But looking at the current state of Tarshish, those feelings he thought had sunk into the abyss came rising up once more.

Nozomu was no longer the kid he’d been back then. He was now the second-in-command of the Iarnvidr Trading Company, and as such, he had learned how to use people to his advantage, he had acquired a deep understanding of the nuances of the human heart, and he had learned how to conduct himself like a leader. He knew he still lacked many qualities—he knew that he hadn’t even reached Linnea’s level yet, let alone his father’s. But even so, he was confident on one point alone: he could at least rule the Steel Clan better than Babel was.

“Please, Father. I beg of you. Entrust the future of the Steel Clan to me.” Staring directly into Yuuto’s eyes, Nozomu made an earnest plea. He was done lying to himself. He didn’t want to leave it to anyone else—he wanted to protect the country he grew up in, the country his dad built, with his own hands.

“Seems like you’re serious,” Yuuto said with a chuckle, which then became a small, bitter smile. He scratched his head as if he was at a loss. “Man, for you to willingly take it upon yourself to shoulder such a burden, I guess you’re just as crazy as I am. You sure you don’t want to head up the trading company instead? It’d be a lot easier.” However, Yuuto sighed as if he already knew Nozomu’s answer. Seeing his father’s reaction, Nozomu could only smile wryly.

To his father Yuuto, taking the throne was something he’d begrudgingly done because he hadn’t had a choice, despite having a genius-level aptitude for it. Even the position of patriarch was something that had been forced on him, nothing more than a burden he’d wanted to relieve himself of as soon as possible. Now that he was free of the responsibility of the throne, the bags under Yuuto’s eyes had disappeared, and he’d become much cheerier, able to truly enjoy every day from the bottom of his heart. To Yuuto, seeing his son pick up the very same responsibility of his own volition no doubt seemed strange.

“But even so, I always wanted to be tike you, dad. ” It was so embarrassing he’d never be able to say it out loud, but that was how Nozomu felt from the bottom of his heart. Ever since he was a child, his father had looked so cool working in his office every day. He had unconsciously set his sights on growing up to be just like his father, and he had continued to chase after him. As he’d focused on his father’s distant back, he’d trained and trained, hoping to one day be as great of a man.

“...Am I not good enough? Do I not have the stuff for it yet?” The moment those words left his mouth, he felt his heart tighten up as if it were in a vise. He was afraid to hear Yuuto’s answer. He didn’t want his father to reject him, and above all else, he wanted to be recognized finally.

“Hin...” Yuuto quietly set down the glass in his hand, looked directly at Nozomu, and—Bam!

In the next instant, the air froze over. It was as if gravity had increased tenfold. Nozomu swallowed in fear. His father seemed like some sort of towering giant within the room, an indomitable presence.

“This is Suoh-Yuuto the war god, the one who conquered half of Yggdrasil. "This was the aspect of Yuuto that he’d never once shown to any of his children before. Terrifying didn’t even begin to describe it—the murderous aura Sigrun gave off during training seemed almost cute in comparison. If he had to compare it to something he’d witnessed before, perhaps the intensity Thutmose had exuded—but no, something like this was still on a whole other level!

He felt like his father’s majesty was crushing him underfoot. Sweat started to ooze from every pore in his body. Honestly, he would’ve liked to run out of the room right then.

“But if I can’t handle this much, I’ll never be able to become a monarch. That’s what you’re trying to tell me, right dad?/” With every ounce of his will, Nozomu stared right back at Yuuto. Back when Nozomu had been fifteen, he’d never have been able to do that. He found himself grateful from the bottom of his heart that he’d encountered Thutmose. It was only because he’d felt that humiliation that he’d realized how far he still had to go to reach Yuuto’s level. That meeting had encouraged Nozomu to put his nose to the grindstone and dedicate every ounce of effort into catching up to his father. Those days of training and self-improvement had, in the end, bestowed upon Nozomu the strength to withstand this heinous aura.

“Hm, well, I think you’re ready for the challenge, at least.” Yuuto’s rigid mouth loosened into a grin. The overwhelming pressure in the air disappeared in an instant, as though it had never been there in the first place.

It seemed that Nozomu had passed the test. However, judging from his father’s words, the real challenge was yet to come.

“Welcome back, dear.” Upon his return home to his mansion and entering his bedroom, Nozomu’s wife Ephelia greeted him with a smile. Their baby, just a year old, cooed innocently in Ephelia’s arms. The child’s name was Sinmara, and she was their only daughter.

“Welcome back,” a stunningly beautiful black-haired girl crouched before Ephelia greeted him, though she didn’t turn around, as her undivided attention was on Sinmara. Her name was Oda Homura. She was one of Ephelia’s closest friends and an Einherjar bearing twin runes. She was likely the strongest one remaining at this point.

“Peekaboo... I see you! Peekaboo... I see you!” As Homura played peekaboo with Sinmara, covering and uncovering her own face with her hands, the baby squealed with laughter. Homura was quite partial to children, having also spent much time playing with Nozomu and his siblings during their youth, and she was now absolutely infatuated with Sinmara. In fact, she had spent the majority of her time in this very room ever since the baby had been born.

“If she likes kids so much, why doesn’t she just have one of her own?” Nozomu wondered, but when he’d asked her about that, she’d simply replied, “None of the men are any good.” It seemed that she had no interest in a partner that didn’t at least measure up to her father, Oda Nobunaga. Aside from his father Yuuto, Nozomu didn’t think she’d find someone like that even if she scoured the world over, but according to Homura, Yuuto already had a multitude of wives, and her pride would not let her settle for being just another member of Yuuto’s harem. Perhaps that was why she doted on all of Yuuto’s children as if they were her own brothers and sisters—and as the child of her beloved brother and her dear friend, it was little wonder Homura was so smitten with Sinmara.

“You have such a pretty smile, yes you do!” Homura cooed with a grin, gently prodding the infant’s cheek with her finger. “You’re gonna grow up to be beautiful like Ephy, I know it!” It was a side of herself she rarely showed to anyone, which proved just how hopelessly attached she was to Sinmara.

“Yeah, judging by how cute she is even now, I don’t think we have anything to worry about in that department,” Nozomu agreed, grinning as well. Truthfully, as the most average-looking of all of his siblings, Nozomu had been a bit anxious at first that the baby might take after him instead, but to his relief, it seemed like those fears had gone unfounded. “But above all, I’m just glad to see Sinmara and Ephy doing so well.”

The good health of his wife and child had been what had given him the most relief upon his return. It wasn’t uncommon at all for a mother to die during childbirth or even during the recovery period afterward, and a high percentage of children ended up passing away before they made it to the age of seven. He was thankful beyond words that the two of them were still hale and healthy.

“Nozomu, might something have happened on the journey here?” Ephelia asked without warning, staring directly into Nozomu’s eyes.

“Huh?! Wh-What makes you think that?” Nozomu stammered in his surprise at having been seen right through.

“Your face says that you want to talk to me about something,” Ephelia replied.

“I-It does?”

“Yes.” Her bright, gentle smile was like that of a goddess’s. She had, after all, known him since before he could even remember. He could never get anything past her.