“Rrghhh... Damn it all!” Babel roared. With a high-pitched tinkle, the glass he’d thrown to the ground shattered, its pieces scattering across the floor. The act did little to pacify his rage.
“As if there are still so many out there loyal to the ghost of that man...” he spat hatefully. He’d figured there would be a few detractors, of course, but he hadn’t expected so many would still flock to the war god’s side. “Guess I can’t underestimate the power of the ‘Suoh-Yuuto’ name after all.”
Only a select few Steel Clan members knew the truth behind Yuuto’s current circumstances—namely those Yuuto had given his direct Chalice. Very few held these Chalices with Yuuto to begin with, and all of them had already either passed on, escaped with Yuuto five years ago, or had long since relinquished their authority as patriarchs. However, they were all influential people, and through them, Yuuto’s latent influence was probably still being felt throughout the senior clans.
“Ungrateful peons... Pulling this stunt after I went out of my way to care for them and ensure their survival.” For the last five years, he’d done everything within his power to cater to the senior clans. Certainly, he’d done so because he’d been afraid they might still remain loyal to Yuuto, and he’d wanted to sever those ties, but in the end, none of them had joined his side—instead, they’d all cozied up to Nozomu. The fact that they’d determined Nozomu even had a chance of winning against him rubbed Babel the wrong way.
“But it’s strange...” If Yuuto’s name had that much power behind it, then why had the enemy camp not announced his involvement publicly? If they had, they’d have had a much easier time usurping Babel’s forces and bringing them to their side. Of course, there was the fact that he was supposed to be dead, but they could even use that as a perfect chance to expose Babel as a liar. Why would they not take that opportunity?
“Unless... He really is dead?” This was, after all, a world where death constantly nipped at your heels. He’d set off for a completely foreign land too, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. In fact... Perhaps Nozomu and the rest had returned to Tarshish because their father was dead, and they had nowhere else to turn? “I see... That would explain everything.”
“Tee hee, your insight is just as keen as ever, Babel.”
“Who’s there?!” A sudden female voice from nowhere caused Babel to whip around in shock. As an Einherjar, he was a warrior of impressive renown, and even since he’d become reginarch, he’d never shirked his daily training. He couldn’t recall a time where he hadn’t been able to sense an approaching presence—until today.
“Aw, it’s only been five years, and you’ve already forgotten me? That’s mean.”
“K-Kristina...? A-Aunt Kristina?!” His voice was tinged with bitterness. Before his eyes was a woman so bewitchingly beautiful that if you took ten men off the street at random, each one of them would undoubtedly turn to look at her. However, Babel knew all too well that beyond her beauty lurked poisonous thorns.
“Longtime no see, my dear nephew.”
“...Indeed, it has been a while. Might I help you with something?” Babel asked, now on high alert. She was one of Yuuto’s most trusted confidants, and the one most skilled in deception, at that. In other words, he could never be too careful around her.
“I just came to inform you of two things.”
“Two...?”
“Yes. First, Father has indeed passed away.”
“Oh... Well, I’m truly sorry to hear that.” Feigning an expression of surprise, Babel strung together insincere words of condolence. Truthfully, Yuuto had always been an issue for him. By all rights, the news should’ve thrilled him, but he couldn’t take the words of the cunning witch before him at face value. He dared not show too much emotion or risk being found out. For now, the best strategy was to maintain a poker face.
“Second, I came to let you know the intentions of the women going forward.”
“I see.” He gave a subdued response, but this was actually of great interest to Babel. By ‘the women,’ Kristina must’ve meant Yuuto’s wives—and as Babel knew well, women were not to be underestimated.
Whether it be Sigrun, said to have been the reason they were able to win the great war of Yggdrasil; Ingrid, inventor of Yuuto’s modern weaponry; or Fagrahvel, Sword Clan patriarch and bearer of a rune that boosted troops’ morale; they were the stars that shined the brightest in Yuuto’s army. No doubt their involvement would greatly influence the outcome of this battle as well—if they planned to act, it was something Babel definitely couldn’t ignore.
“None of them plan to interfere in this battle between you and Nozomu,” Kristina stated.
“Oh? Well, that’s certainly good news for me, but without any proof, I’m afraid I can’t trust you so easily.” Naturally, Babel wasn’t so naive as to take what Kristina was telling him at face value. It was entirely possible—actually, very likely—that this was a trap meant to lure Babel into a false sense of security, and even if she was telling the truth, she might have shared the information with the intent to shake him up. The entire time, he’d taken special care to pay attention to his expression, his tone of voice, and his diction as he observed Kristina cautiously, making sure that his reginarch’s mask of composure didn’t accidentally slip.
“Right now, whether you believe me or not is irrelevant,” Kristina responded curtly. “Father’s dying wish was for you to receive this message, and now that you’ve received it, my job here is done.”
“Dying wish, huh?” Babel considered it. He wasn’t related to Yuuto by blood, and he hadn’t inherited the throne through any official means, nor had there been any ceremony. However, it was true that Yuuto had handpicked Babel to become reginarch. In that case, perhaps it wasn’t so strange for Yuuto’s dying wish to be to make sure Babel got his message.
“Father always said that to be a king, you need strength above all else.”
“...I remember it well.” Yuuto himself had been a man who had valued compassion more than anything, but he had also held the cynical perspective that his sworn children and subjects weren’t as loyal to him as they were to the power he possessed. He wouldn’t have been able to build a government from the ground up in the New World and keep it running for ten whole years on compassion alone. It was his overwhelming strength that had made everyone follow him.
“With that in mind, Father issued a directive to his wives. ‘Even if Nozomu decides he wants to be king, only watch over him from the sidelines and do not get involved. If he doesn’t have the ability to usurp the throne on his own, he doesn’t have the right to the crown.’”
“...I see.” It certainly sounded like something Yuuto would say. He was weak when it came to his family, but he’d never let his personal feelings get in the way of business. He wasn’t foolish enough to hand over the throne to someone who didn’t deserve it, even if that someone was his own son.
“That’s all I have to say. Goodbye.” Disinterestedly, Kristina tossed the paper in her hand into the air, which caught Babel’s attention for but a fraction of a second. That short moment was all it took for Kristina to vanish from the room without a trace. Babel reflexively swallowed in fear.
“That woman terrifies me,” he muttered. His office was supposed to be heavily secured, yet Kristina had escaped like it was nothing. If he was being honest, it bordered on nonsensical. And it wasn’t just her—all of Yuuto’s most trusted confidants were like that. If they really had no intention of joining the battle, he couldn’t imagine a bigger godsend. The problem, though, was whether or not it was a trap...
“Thinking about it, it seems unlikely.” Whether directly or by word of mouth, he felt he had a pretty good idea of what type of person Yuuto was. He’d also observed the way Yuuto had fought back in Yggdrasil. Up until now, Yuuto had hardly ever resorted to this level of false information or misrepresentation in order to give his own army an advantage. Of course, it’d be dangerous to assume he wouldn’t, but he didn’t think this type of situation, at least, was one where Yuuto would rely on a tactic like that. In this case, the Yuuto he knew would confront his enemies head-on and use his strength to make them submit. In other words, he could likely send his troops out to crush Nozomu without any risk. No mythical Yuuto-led “special unit” was going to attack him from behind.
“Heh... Heh heh heh... What’d that bastard used to say? ‘If you’re gonna eat the poison, you may as well eat the plate’?” It was something Yuuto had often said once he’d gone all-in on a decision. After five years of being reginarch, Babel had come to understand its meaning—the one thing a ruler needed most of all was the ability to make a decision and stand by it. His instinct, honed over countless battles, was telling him that it was impossible for Yuuto to have a support unit waiting in the wings. Now was the time to attack.
Babel gave his orders. “Tell all units gathered in Tarshish to mobilize! I’ll crush this rebel calling himself ‘Jjiodann’ with my own two hands!”
“Big Bro, I’m getting word that Babel’s army in Tarshish is headed this way.”
“So they’ve finally begun to move.” Nozomu’s face went tense upon hearing Arness’s report. Of course, he’d been prepared for this. But hearing that the enemy had mobilized reminded him that war really was imminent, and he couldn’t help but feel nervous.
“Yeah. And it looks like it’s all of their units at once.”
“All units...?” Nozomu frowned in suspicion. “That seems a bit odd. Didn’t you and Rungr say that the reason Babel hadn’t made a move up until now was probably because he was afraid of dad?” When he’d first heard their assessment, it had honestly depressed Nozomu. “Just how long am I going to be under my dad’s protection?” he’d thought. Now the situation was different. He couldn’t afford any mistakes, and he’d resolved to use everything he had at his disposal.
“Yeah... Gathering all his forces to attack us and leaving Tarshish completely open is a rather strange move,” Arness agreed.
“Right?”
“But we can’t deny the reality in front of us. We have to adapt and change our strategy.” Arness put his hand to his chin, seemingly vexed. Since the enemy was so wary of Yuuto’s nonexistent presence, Nozomu and his siblings had originally planned to scheme around that fear and collapse their chain of command, after which they’d pick off each individual unit. But the enemy’s actions had completely uprooted that plan.
“Should we also mobilize our forces for attack?” Nozomu asked.
“I wouldn’t recommend that. We’re pretty heavily outnumbered still. Best to avoid a head-on confrontation if we can help it.” The crease between Arness’s brows deepened as his expression grew more severe.
Next to them, Rungr nodded. “For sure. Father might be able to manage it, but we don’t have his battle experience, nor do we have his cheat abilities.”
“Right.” Nozomu gave an unamused snort. He didn’t need to be told he couldn’t measure up to his father. He’d already learned that five years ago. Sure, it still frustrated him a little, but he was done trying to deny it.
“But, you know, if Babel really is coming here to destroy this fortress, it might work out in our favor.”
“Huh? How?” Nozomu had no clue what Arness was talking about.
“This fortress is on the outskirts of Steel Clan territory. The boonies, if you will. There’s no land to guard here, nor are there any civilians.”
“I mean, yeah, isn’t that why dad chose it?” He still didn’t understand. Why was this getting rehashed now? Dellingr Fortress had originally been built to guard against bandits from the east. Yuuto had chosen this fortress because he hadn’t wanted harm to come to any innocent bystanders, and this one was located far away from civilization. That way, when war finally broke out, the people would at least be safe. Furthermore, the fortress was located near the shore, which made it easy for ships to dock and supply the army with rations. Either way, this was all old news. Nozomu couldn’t understand why Arness would state the obvious at such a critical juncture.
“Right. So there’s no problem with using that to our advantage.”
“Uhh...”
“You don’t get it? If they’d cross over into Claw or Wolf Clan territory, we’d have no other option but to come to their aid. And if they invaded Horn Clan territory, Haugspori would have to go back there to handle
“Ah, right.” Nozomu struck his palm with his fist as though he understood. These people had gone out of their way to aid Nozomu, placing themselves under his banner. He had a duty to help them in return.
“But the enemy, on the other hand,” Arness continued, “would want to avoid having their own territory laid to waste. That’s why instead of bothering with the other clans, they’re heading here directly to put you, the rebel leader, out of commission.”
“So it seems,” Nozomu muttered, then he frowned with confusion. He still didn’t know what Arness was getting at, and it was beginning to irritate him that his brother was able to figure out something he couldn’t. “So, what should we do then? Get to the point.”
“Ah, sorry. Dragging out the exposition has always been a bad habit of mine. Basically, if there’s nothing to protect and no one to rescue, there’s no need to send out the troops at all. We can just fight from the safety of this fortress, right?”
“I see!” At long last, Nozomu understood. Normally, there would be more disadvantages than advantages to doing so. Lords often taxed their subjects under the pretext of keeping them safe, but if that lord was spineless enough to hole himself up in his castle while his land burned, he’d lose the trust and loyalty he’d built up. While a lord might want to avoid that at all costs, Nozomu didn’t have to concern himself with any of that, and he had access to a steady supply of food for everyone as well. Arness was trying to say that if the enemy outnumbered them, then all they had to do was stay in the fort and on the defensive—the side that always had an overwhelming advantage during a siege.
“I’m in favor of Arness’s plan. Let the enemy come to us. While we’re holed up in this fortress, we can look for an opening, attack when we find one, and if they retreat, we go for the jugular. I don’t see any disadvantages,” Sigurd said, offering his opinion.
“But wait, isn’t keeping the troops in line during a siege incredibly difficult?” Nozomu, however, was unsure. He remembered something similar happening in one of Yuuto’s tales from the past. But Sigurd just gave a confident grin.
“Truthfully? That won’t be an issue,” Sigurd replied confidently. “Considering there is already a hefty supply of provisions in this fort to get us started, we can easily hold out for a good three months. Also, the more resources the enemy wastes to attack us, the higher likelihood of their troops defecting to our side. In this case, time is actually our ally.”
“You’ve got a sharp eye, kid. I like that. But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the son of Fagrahvel and His Former Majesty.” Haugspori sighed in admiration.
Nozomu felt a slight prick of pain in his chest. Back during the great war of Yggdrasil, Haugspori had been Linnea’s right-hand man. Since she herself wasn’t fond of war, he’d heard that Haugspori had picked up the slack, displaying in full his almost superhuman talent for combat. Put simply, he was a legend among legends, and for Haugspori to recognize Sigurd’s skill made Nozomu realize all over again how gifted his younger brother was. Why couldn’t he have inherited any of Yuuto’s talents? From that jealousy, negative thoughts inevitably began to take root in his mind.
“So, what do you think, Big Bro? Are we going with the siege plan?”
“Wha?! Oh... Um...” Arness’s question brought him back to earth. Indeed, Arness and Sigurd’s opinions made sense. But something still bothered him. Something didn’t add up.
“Are you worried about something?” Arness asked.
“N-No, not especially, it’s just...” But even as he said it, he felt his heartbeat quicken. He didn’t know why, but something was keeping him from agreeing. He just—had a bad feeling.
“Is it just because I’m jealous that I didn’t come up with it first?” Honestly, that would make more sense, but he quickly denied it. He didn’t want to believe he’d fallen that far. But—what if he actually had? He wasn’t sure. He was aware his inferiority complex had gotten especially bad as of late.
“Something on your mind, Big Bro?”
“Ah... Well, I’m not actually sure why, but for some reason, I just can’t help but feel that this siege plan is a bad idea, I guess,” he admitted sheepishly, scratching his head in uncertainty.
At first, he’d considered concealing his disapproval. He didn’t have a good reason to refuse, so he’d only embarrass himself by speaking out. The plan was clearly the wisest course of action. Going with the flow and accepting the proposal would have let him save face. However, five years ago, he’d told himself he was done putting on airs. In the end, he’d always be seen through. He had to grow on his own merits. Would he rather speak up now and endure a little embarrassment in the short term, or suffer a lifetime of it for not speaking up at all? Even if it made him look like a fool, wasn’t it best to keep asking questions until things made sense? Maybe then, even if it was just a baby step, he would be able to take a step forward in his own growth—at least, that was what he hoped.
“Hmm... You don’t know why, huh?” Arness looked troubled as he put his hand on his chin. That just made Nozomu feel worse.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled apologetically. “It must sound stupid for me to reject your proposal without a concrete reason. It might just be that I’m jealous of you for being far more capable than I am.”
“Nah, you’d never let something like that get in the way of an important decision.” Arness’s reply was immediate. His younger brother’s confidence in him made him happy, but he wasn’t as confident in himself. Nozomu knew himself the best, and he knew that he deeply envied his younger brothers.
“All right, let’s break it down, then. Exactly what part of this plan has you apprehensive?” Rungr asked.
Nozomu thought for a bit before responding. “Well, probably the suggestion that we have nothing to protect.”
“Hm, so you’re saying we’ve overlooked something we do have to protect?”
“But the area around this fortress is barren. That’s why Father chose this place to begin with, right?” Arness and Sigurd both looked stumped.
“They’re smarter than I’ll ever be,” Nozomu thought, “so if they can’t see an issue, then it was probably just my imagination. Tune to stop pretending tike I have anything to contribute and leave it to them. ” But just as that thought crossed his mind, someone delivered a swift kick to his back, sending him flying. When he got up off the ground and turned around to see his attacker, there stood Wiz, a look of disdain on her face.
“What the hell, Wiz?!” he screeched.
“You’re slouching, Big Brother. ‘In strategy, it is imperative to be able to see distant things as if they were close by and nearby things as if they were far away. Do not see, observe.’”
“Huh?” Nozomu had never heard that one before. At least, it wasn’t anything Sun Tzu had said.
Wiz put her hand on her hip and sighed. “Miyamoto Musashi’s The Book of Five Rings. He was known as the strongest warrior Father’s home country had ever known. When you’re hunched over like that, you can only see what’s in front of you, Big Brother.”
“Hmph.” He understood what Wiz was getting at. Telling him he was “hunched over” was her way of saying to him that he was being spineless. When one became spineless, they turned their gaze inward, getting so caught up in themselves that their worldview became narrow. He of all people should’ve known that by now, yet before he knew it he’d been stuck in the swamp of self-doubt once more.
“‘See close things as if they were distant, and distant things as if they were close,’ huh?” He’d frequently heard those words from Sigrun during his training sessions as well. In that context, it meant that focusing too much on your opponent’s sword could leave you unable to react to their attack. By adopting a wider perspective and paying attention to the opponent’s entire body instead, an opponent’s tells would become more apparent and easier to respond to. It was the most basic of basics. Just now, Nozomu had been only looking at what was in front of him. If he expanded that perspective...
“Ah! I got it! I see now!” Suddenly, a bright flame lit the candle in his mind. He was so surprised by the sudden revelation that he ended up shouting out. He finally knew exactly what had bothered him so much about his brother’s plan.
“It’s wrong to say we don’t have anything to protect. I returned to Tarshish to claim my rightful spot as the new jjiodann, didn’t I?” he explained.
“Well, sure. We’re well aware of that...” Arness frowned in confusion.
“A siege would insinuate that it’d be a long battle, right? And we’d be far away from our people.”
“Yes, and isn’t that exactly what we want?” Arness asked.
“That’s right. It’d be the wisest course of action, for sure.” The more dissatisfied his subjects became, the quicker Babel’s forces would weaken. Put more clearly: The more upset they were with Babel, the easier it would be for Nozomu to rule. By setting him up as a hero who toppled a tyrant, he’d surely be welcomed by the populace. The benefits of their current plan were readily obvious, but even so...
“The thing is, I don’t want my people to suffer any longer,” Nozomu stated.
That was how Nozomu truly felt. He knew itwas immature and idealistic, but in the end, his heart wouldn’t accept anything else. He couldn’t help but be true to himself.
“Naturally, I’m well aware that just as you two said, a siege strategy is in our best interest. But I can’t help but think, am I any better of a ruler if I’m able to leave my people to suffer under Babel any longer than they need to? If I have to make a choice like that to become king, then what right do I have to wear the crown?” The words coming out of his mouth sounded idiotic even to him. Only heroes, people with strength like his father Yuuto, had the right to spout such ideals. From the mouth of a weakling like himself, it was all going to ring hollow. Or so he thought.
“I see. Well then, let’s put an end to this war as swiftly as possible, shall we?” Arness said with a grin.
“Yes, let’s revise our plan so we can do just that,” Sigurd agreed. The pair readily got on board with Nozomu’s idealistic goals. There were no objections whatsoever. They’d been so eager to accept, in fact, that it freaked Nozomu out.
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