ACT 5
“I am sorry to have kept you all waiting.” A deep, throaty voice resounded solemnly throughout the ritual hall. “I hereby announce to all who have gathered in attendance on this auspicious occasion that I shall now have the honor of conducting the ceremony which binds parent and child through the sacred Chalice of Allegiance.”
The owner of the voice was a man who looked to be about halfway through his forties. He had a fierce-looking face, with imposing scars on his brow and cheek.
He bore no rune, but apparently he had shown valor in battle equal to any Einherjar, and his honest and steadfast disposition had earned him deep respect among his peers. This great man had been trusted with the position of assistant to the second-in-command, making him the second-highest ranked officer in the Wolf Clan.
Yuuto scanned the ritual hall, filled with all the prominent officers of the clan. Each of them had a certain gravity of presence about them, to be expected of those who had to earn their way up into their current positions by hard work and results alone.
The atmosphere in the hall was serious and tense.
“I am Assistant to the Second-in-Command Jörgen, and I shall serve the role of mediator for this rite. By the command of my father, the seventh patriarch of the Wolf Clan, Fárbauti, though I may lack the dignity appropriate to one honored with such a great task, I shall pledge here my very life that I shall serve it well.”
There were none present who did not know him already, but this sort of introduction was part of proper etiquette.
The mediator — a sort of “go-between,” and the person who actually handled the Chalice for the two people in the ceremony — was a role that in Yggdrasil was customarily filled by the goði, the imperial priests and direct representatives of the divine emperor, in cases where both parties were clan patriarchs. However, since this rite was an internal matter within a single clan, Jörgen could serve in the role.
“Yuuto, this way,” the man directed.
“Yes, sir.” Yuuto stood up when Jörgen called his name, and made his way to the space in front of an altar with a blazing fire atop it, where the patriarch was already seated. Yuuto sat down across from him.
Taken in by the intense and oppressive atmosphere of the ritual hall, Yuuto’s heart was pounding loudly. It was too late to be concerned about it now, but he was still worried that he might make some mistake or blunder out of nerves.
Jörgen leaned over towards the white-haired old patriarch. “I humbly ask this of you, my father Fárbauti. Does your wish to make the honorable Yuuto into your sworn child remain unchanged?”
Fárbauti gave one glance towards Yuuto, then turned his gaze back to Jörgen and nodded.
“Yes, it is unchanged. I will make Yuuto my sworn child, and I will properly look after him.”
“Then I shall humbly request this of you, Fárbauti my father. Show the young man, who will become your sworn child, the sacred wine that he shall drink. If you please!”
As Jörgen gestured with his hand, Fárbauti grabbed both ends of the Chalice with his hands, lifting it gently up into the air. Following custom, he then placed it at his lips and took three heartfelt and precise swallows from it, before returning it to its place on the stand.
“I shall now receive the Chalice from you.” Jörgen stepped forward, and, after a bow, he took the Parent Chalice in his hands and poured some of the sacred wine from it into the Child Chalice that had been prepared nearby.
Once Jörgen finished pouring, he returned the Parent Chalice, then took out a small sheathed dagger and held it reverently out to Fárbauti.
“I shall ask once more of you Fárbauti, my father,” Jörgen said. “This Chalice, though it may be given under unusual circumstances, shall be that of your sworn child. I humbly ask that you give unto the honorable Yuuto the proud blood of our clan, that he might inherit the will and the history, the struggles and pain of our forefathers, so that you might guide him to become an exemplary member of our clan.”
“I shall do so.” Fárbauti took the dagger and pulled it from its sheath in an exaggerated motion. Its dull silver sheen marked it as made from iron, the metal which in Yggdrasil was a gift from the heavens itself.
Without any change in his expression, the old patriarch pulled the blade of the dagger across his own forefinger. He held that finger out, and let the drops of crimson blood fall into the Child Chalice.
A child carried the blood of his parents. And so, by having the blood of the sworn parent mixed in with the sacred wine, and then taking it into oneself, one became a child in both name and body.
“Thank you very much.” Jörgen gave another bow. With precise movements, he carried the stand it was sitting on over to Yuuto, righted himself, and spoke. “I humbly request of you, Yuuto, who shall become a sworn child. Please take the Chalice into your hands.”
“Yes, sir.”
It was finally Yuuto’s turn. Mistakes would not be forgiven. Yuuto grasped both ends of the Chalice, and carefully, carefully lifted it until it was level with his shoulders. Then he waited.
“Once you drink deeply of that Chalice, you shall become the sworn child of my father, Fárbauti. While you must surely be fully prepared for this, I remind you that once you declare him as your parent, those words are absolute and binding. There may be times when, for example, something is white, and yet your parent declares that it is black. In cases like those, you must swallow all other thoughts and also accept that it is black.”
In the world of Yggdrasil, a parent by the Oath of the Chalice was an existence of absolute authority to their sworn children.
One could not choose the parent or siblings they were born with, but one could freely choose one’s clan parent through the Oath of the Chalice. Once that choice had been freely made, one was required to devote absolute loyalty of heart and mind, body and soul, to one’s sworn parent. That was the custom in this world.
“If, despite that, you still possess the resolve to pledge yourself to this clan, and to our father, then drink three times of that Chalice, drain it, and take the sacred wine into yourself. If you please!”
At Jörgen’s words, Yuuto followed the customary movements, drinking the wine from the Chalice.
With this, Yuuto had directly exchanged the Oath of the Chalice with Fárbauti, and had gone from being a guest of the Wolf Clan to a fully fledged member, and a child subordinate of its patriarch.
After the suffocatingly formal ceremony, it was time for a banquet full of song and drunken revelry.
“Congratulations to you, Big Brother Yuuto!” a clan member declared. “I should have expected nothing less of you! To think you would become a top clan officer right away, and tenth-ranked in the clan to boot!”
“Oh, come on, it’s a natural outcome, considering what Big Brother Yuuto was able to pull off,” another one interjected. “Now that our Wolf Clan troops are armed with the metal of the gods, they have nothing to fear from the Claw Clan!”
“Those crossbows and stirrups are amazing, too!” a third cried. “Both of them take something that used to require an incredibly long period of training, and make it so even a novice can fight on par with a veteran in no time!”
“Yeah, with those, our victory in the next battle is practically guaranteed!”
“Ohhh, and that reminds me, I had the chance to eat that gritless bread you came up with! It’s exceptionally good!”
“And that new ‘paper’ stuff is so light and incredibly convenient, too!”
“Big Brother Yuuto, thanks to you, the city is flooded with traders and merchants. It’s the first time I’ve seen our city this bustling and lively.”
“That’s just what I’d expect from our Gleipsieg! Everybody else had their doubts about you, but I believed in you all along.”
“You weren’t the only one! Why, I told those doubtful hooligans off several times!”
The parade of clan members coming up to Yuuto to sing his praises showed no signs of stopping or letting up.
After his success at refining iron, Yuuto had continued to introduce advanced technologies unheard of in Yggdrasil, one after the other.
He’d come to realize that in the real world, good things and bad things didn’t occur uniformly or in equal measure. More often than not, they tended to happen in an oddly unbalanced fashion. So, a long string of bad things would occur in succession, and the reverse was also true.
As if to make up for the long run of bad fortune that had lasted a whole half a year since Yuuto’s arrival, for these most recent past couple of months, everything he was attempting seemed to work out smoothly and without any real problems. Right now, it seemed like everything was going his way. He felt almost almighty, like he could do anything right now if he tried.
Now that he’d made great strides in society, there was no end to those who wished to butter him up and curry favor with him. That was just the way of the world. Among them were even some of the people who had publicly mocked him, calling him Sköll the Devourer of Blessings and Durinn the Oversleeper. In his heart, he couldn’t resist snickering at how they could so brazenly change their attitude towards him like this.
Sigrún came over. “Congrats, Big Brother Yuuto.”
“Ah, hey, Rún. Thanks.” Just as Yuuto was feeling fed up with the whole charade, he broke out in a smile at seeing her familiar face.
And then his grin grew wider and more devious as he thought up a great little prank.
“But since I’m above you in the clan now, technically I’m like your older brother. You need to be using more respectful language with me. Come on, it should be ‘Congratulations to you, Big Brother,’ riiight?”
He’d been putting up with this girl talking down to him all this time. It was only human for him to want to use this chance for a little bit of payback.
One had to obey one’s superiors. That was how things worked in this world.
Yuuto was hoping to witness her shaking with humiliation as she forced herself to speak to him again formally and politely, but...
“It’s true that, formally speaking, you’re my older brother in the clan, but it’s not like I’ve directly exchanged the Oath of the Chalice with you.” Sigrún cut down his expectations flatly and concisely. “I only obey the orders of people I personally recognize as worthy.”
Of course, Yuuto no longer held any sort of grudge against Sigrún, and he even thought of her as a friend. I just planned to tease you for a bit and then say, “Just kidding! C’mon, having you talk to me all formally would be so unfunny it’d make my skin crawl. Just treat me like you always have.” Then cap it off with a laugh!
Instead, the way that Sigrún was refusing to change her attitude towards him regardless of rank or status was so dauntless, even manly, that it just left him feeling frustrated.
“Congrats, Yuuto!” Loptr called out to him.
Yuuto’s feeling of deflation lifted, and his mood picked back up as he turned around to reply. “Oh... Big Brother Loptr! Thank you!”
“Let’s... talk outside, for a bit, shall we?” The blond-haired young man gestured with his chin toward a doorway leading out of the hörgr chamber.
It was a direct invitation from the clan’s second-in-command. The people crowding around Yuuto all looked reluctant to let him go, but in this situation, they had no choice but to acquiesce out of respect.
“Thanks, Big Brother,” Yuuto said, breathing in deeply. In a crowded room like that, the air tended to grow stuffy and stagnant, and the refreshing outside air out here felt great in Yuuto’s lungs. “You saved me there.”
“Heh heh, you’re very welcome. It’s been, what, seven days now? I’m glad to see you’re looking well.”
“Ahh, yeah... Guess I’ve only seen you in passing these days, huh?”
Having just told Sigrún to use respectful language towards her superiors, Yuuto was doing the exact opposite right now, speaking completely casually.
The downside of using polite language with someone was that it could also feel stiff and distant. They’d been living under the same roof for a long time now. In that time, Yuuto’s love and respect for his sworn older brother had grown even deeper, but by this point, his way of speaking to him had grown completely frank and unreserved.
“Good grief, I really do have a cold-hearted younger brother,” Loptr commented. “Felicia misses you too, you know.”
“I’m sorry.” A little ashamed, Yuuto lowered his head a bit.
Ever since he’d completed work on the iron refining process, it had become more and more common for Yuuto to get so absorbed in his work at Ingrid’s workshop that he’d work around the clock, not coming back to the house for days at a time.
The biggest reason was that it was for the sake of getting back home, and to pay back the debt of gratitude he owed his new brother and sister, but he also simply enjoyed the act of making things.
“Honestly, when I heard the news from Father the other day, it blindsided me,” Loptr said. “Did something make you have a change of heart? Enough for you to exchange your Chalice oath directly with Father, that is? And without even discussing it with me, either? Am I that unreliable as an older brother?” There was a bit of accusation in Loptr’s tone.
Up until now, Loptr had repeatedly invited Yuuto to formally join his clan faction, but Yuuto had always steadfastly refused, with the argument that he’d eventually have to return to his own world.
However much he might always maintain that calm and gentle demeanor of his, Loptr was human. As someone who had valued Yuuto’s potential highly from the beginning and had sought to recruit him for so long, of course he couldn’t let something like this go without at least throwing out a complaint or two.
“Actually, it’s the opposite,” Yuuto said. “Until now, I’ve always been relying on you to take care of things for me. I just thought, I can’t keep constantly depending on my big brother, you know?”
With a wry smile, Yuuto laughed and shrugged his shoulders.
Yuuto was now no longer the weak child he had once been, unable to survive without the protection of Loptr and Felicia.
He wanted to show that he could stand on his own two feet, looking after himself and making his own decisions. And the reason that was so important was—
“You don’t have the time or the energy to spare on looking after me right now, anyway. Right?”
The battle that would decide the Wolf Clan’s fate was already close at hand.
His sworn older brother carried heavy responsibilities as the clan’s second-in-command, and was extremely busy right now, every moment of his time occupied with the preparations for the war with the Claw Clan. Yuuto didn’t want to be an extra burden.
“My mission in this world is to bring victory to the Wolf Clan,” Yuuto went on. “I’m going to do absolutely everything I can to make that happen. Big Brother, you just need to focus on doing what you need to do.”
Yuuto didn’t want to be a hindrance to the brother he was already so obligated to. He didn’t want to be a pathetic man who was always saved by others; he wanted to be the kind of man who could save others.
He wanted to repay the kindness he’d received so far, even if only a little.
And that was why, despite the binding obligations it would create, Yuuto had resolved himself to exchange the Oath of the Chalice directly with the patriarch.
“O Angrboða, goddess who protects Iárnviðr! I, Fárbauti, patriarch of the Wolf Clan, beseech you. Bestow your divine protection on these brave soldiers of the Wolf as they head to battle! Grant us victory!”
As Fárbauti raised his voice at the end, the crowd let out a roar that seemed to shake the very air, which echoed far and wide throughout the city.
“Victory!!”
Reports had come in that the Claw Clan was at last mobilizing their forces, and now in front of the sacred tower Hliðskjálf stood neat lines of fully-armed soldiers, at attention with the butts of their spears planted firmly in the ground.
They numbered just over one thousand.
These soldiers were going to join up with the five hundred soldiers at Fort Gnipahellir on the border with the Claw Clan, making a total force of fifteen hundred. The ones protecting the border with the Horn Clan could not afford to be moved, so this was the maximum number of soldiers the Wolf Clan could muster.
By contrast, taking into consideration the information they’d obtained so far, it was estimated the Claw Clan had roughly about two thousand to twenty-five hundred men.
Judging by numbers, they were at a disadvantage, but now the right hand of each Wolf Clan soldier held a spear that was strong enough to break through the shields of their enemies. And in their left hands were shields hard enough to withstand any kind of attack their enemies might bring to bear.
And on top of that...
“Second-in-Command Loptr,” commanded Fárbauti. “I grant you all authority as my representative. Lead this army, destroy the forces of our bitter enemy the Claw Clan, and take back the dignity handed down to us over the generations by our ancestors!”
“Sir! I shall!” Loptr said.
Commanding this army was Loptr, Einherjar of the rune Alþiófr, Jester of a Thousand Illusions. He was the heroic general known throughout nearby lands by the alias Býleistr, the Sire of Lightning Within the Storm.
Beneath his banner were Sigrún, Felicia, and the man in charge of protecting Fort Gnipahellir, Skáviðr, who was known as the Strongest Silver Wolf, Mánagarmr. Each of them was a powerful Einherjar in their own right, on par with a hundred soldiers, and together they formed an incredible lineup.
“Come over here, Yuuto,” Fárbauti commanded.
“Sir!” Yuuto responded to the summons and moved to stand beside him, just as they’d discussed in advance. He could distinctly feel everyone’s eyes gathering on him.
During the Oath of the Chalice Ceremony, the room had been full of important people, but it had still been only a crowd of a few dozen. But now he was in front of a crowd of thousands. His couldn’t stop his knees from shaking. It was like his own body wouldn’t listen to him.
At that moment, Fárbauti’s hand grasped him strongly on the shoulder, and mysteriously, the shaking settled down.
“I’m sure all of you know of him,” Fárbauti said. “He is the young man with whom I exchanged the Oath of the Chalice just the other day, my new son. He is the one sent to us by Angrboða! He is the Child of Victory, Gleipsieg! As long as he is with us, the victory of the Wolf Clan is assured!”
“Gleipsieg! Gleipsieg!!” the crowd roared.
The waves of feverish cheers that rose up from the crowd overwhelmed Yuuto.
“Ha ha, wow... I can feel it in my bones,” he laughed wryly.
He knew that sound existed as vibrations traveling through the air, but the feeling of those vibrations reverberating through the very core of his body made him understand that knowledge on a physical level.
The fact that all of this raucous cheering was directed at him almost didn’t feel real, though. The trauma of how everyone had ridiculed and insulted him was still freshly etched into his mind.
“Go on, then,” Fárbauti urged. “How about you give ’em a response?”
“Y-yeah. I guess I should.”
At Fárbauti’s prodding, Yuuto put on the salesman’s smile he’d been practicing for this day, and waved to the crowd.
Instantly, he felt the roaring cheers grow even louder.
This was the reason Yuuto had agreed to exchange the Oath of the Chalice directly with Fárbauti.
He wasn’t powerful enough to take up a weapon and fight as a soldier. If a novice like himself wandered onto the battlefield, he would be nothing more than a hindrance.
Seeing how frustrated he was with himself, the old patriarch had approached him, asking him to take on the role of raising everyone’s morale.
The Wolf Clan’s fate, and his own, were both riding on this battle. He wanted to make sure he did absolutely everything he could.
He had once hated everything about this world. But now...
Loptr and Felicia went without saying, but now Sigrún and Ingrid were important to him, too. Even Fárbauti was someone he wanted to protect. He wanted to do something to help his family.
“Wow, you sure are popular, Yuuto,” Loptr teased, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess that’s what it means to be the Child of Victory, Gleipsieg.”
Even as he was about to set out for a battle where he’d surely face the constant threat of death, this man was cracking jokes. That sort of mettle was one reason Yuuto found him so reliable, but it also made him jealous.
“Bringing victory to the Wolf Clan is my mission, after all. This is the least I can do.”
Yuuto did his best to act confident in return, turning his lips playfully upwards. He couldn’t afford to act timid or shamefully in front of the older brother he respected so much.
“But, this really is all I can do for you. Take care of the rest for me, Big Brother.” Yuuto held his fist straight out, towards Loptr.
It was a gesture his older brother could never miss the meaning of.
“You got it.” Loptr grinned. “Leave it to me.”
With a smile full of confidence, Loptr bumped Yuuto’s fist with his own. And then he turned around to face his soldiers, shouting:
“All troops, move out!”
“I see,” Mitsuki said. “So Loptr, Felicia, and Sigrún all left to go fight. I’m worried for them...”
“Yeah,” said Yuuto. “Well, all three of them are Einherjar, and I don’t think they’ll do anything too careless.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Mitsuki agreed. “I’m sure they’ll be all right. I know it’s rude to them to say this, but, Yuu-kun, I’m... really glad you didn’t go to fight with them.”
“Oh, well, don’t worry about me. I’m staying behind here, where it’s safe. Still, it sure has gotten quiet without them around.”
“...Yuu-kun, are you feeling lonely?”
“Wha— N-no, I’m not!”
“Your voice just cracked.”
“Dammit.”
Yuuto wanted to make some kind of argument back at her, but instead he held back, quietly cursing and clicking his tongue. He did feel lonely, and he figured anything he said would just make it more obvious to someone who knew him so well.
After the army’s departure ceremony, Yuuto had gone back to Loptr’s house alone.
Even though the Wolf Clan was a tiny nation among its neighbors, he was staying in the house of its second-in-command, so it was a large home. It felt too big and spacious to use all by himself (Angela the maidservant lived in a small hut separate from the main house). The emptiness, the absence of the presence of other people in that house, only worsened the feelings of loneliness within him.
And so, without consciously realizing it, his legs had carried him toward the Hliðskjálf.
But admitting that in front of his childhood friend would have hurt his pride.
“Uh, there’s something I need to look up, so I’m gonna go ahead and go now,” Yuuto said.
“Oh, right,” said Mitsuki. “Okay. Then, call me again soon, okay? Bye bye!”
“Yeah, I’ll talk to you again soon.”
At first, they’d had a lot of trouble saying goodbye and ending their calls, but by this point, they were pretty easygoing about it.
Yuuto hung up. Then, with practiced movements, he opened his browser app. He roughly skimmed over the articles he wanted to check, and just as he was finishing, the screen went dark as its power died.
“Ah, I really cut it close there. Guess I spent too long on the call.” Yuuto gave a short chuckle at his own expense. It seemed that with so many of the people close to him gone away, he’d been more lonely than he’d thought.
“I wonder where they are right about now. Lessee, they were supposed to spend all day today heading north before turning east. Which means, since the north gate’s that way, then...”
Yuuto strained his eyes in that direction, but there was nothing to see but all-encompassing darkness.
“I wonder if they’re looking up at this sky right now, too,” Yuuto said, as his gaze wandered upwards.
Despite telling Mitsuki not to worry about him, the fact that he was the only one staying behind in safety hurt his conscience. Being unable to do anything but wait for everyone else’s return made him frustrated with himself, and impatient. He wished he could be working together with them somehow. He knew that was just his sentimentality talking, though.
“...Hm?” he murmured. “Huh, that looks a lot like the Big Dipper. Yeah, that ladle-like shape looks just the same. So they have that constellation over here, too, then... Wait, no, hold on!”
Realizing how silly a statement that was, he interjected at his own train of thought halfway through, and scanned the sky more intently.
As a boy raised in the countryside, Yuuto was very familiar with the stars in the sky. As a child, he’d even gone to official stargazing events a few times, at Mitsuki’s invitation.
He couldn’t exactly name all eighty-eight major constellations or anything like that, but he’d memorized the Big Dipper easily back then because he’d liked the sound of its name.
“Right, so that smaller ladle nearby... that’s the Little Dipper and Ursa Minor. Okay, come on now. If I’m in a different world, then how come the constellations I can see are exactly the same?”
Yuuto was completely bewildered.
“Eh? You mean the North Star’s not that one on the ladle’s handle?” Yuuto asked.
“Correct,” said the priest. “Rather, it is the bright star on the bottom part of the ladle’s bowl. More precisely speaking, true celestial north is at a spot a little below the bowl.”
“O-oh, okay,” Yuuto said. “Thanks, that was a big help.”
He thanked the priest and hurriedly exited the chapel.
The night after spotting the Big Dipper, Yuuto had looked up some star charts online, and gotten to work right away comparing them to the sky.
The results: The positions of the stars here were completely identical to Earth.
It had been a complete oversight on his part.
Someone raised in the city would have probably been moved by the beauty of the star-filled sky here, sparkling like a sea of jewels, but for Yuuto it was something he was so used to seeing that he hadn’t paid it any special mind.
“But why would the North Star be different, then?”
Yuuto did what any modern Japanese person did when faced with something they didn’t understand: He Googled it.
The moon was still pretty close to full that night, so he could access the internet even at the base of the tower.
“Ohhh, so that’s what it is.” Yuuto quickly found the relevant information, and expressed his surprise aloud at the answer.
Apparently, because the Earth underwent axial precession — a phenomenon whereby its axis of rotation gradually shifted — the North Star changed depending on the era. The North Star Yuuto was familiar with had in fact only become the North Star around the 16th century, and the previous one had been the star he’d just heard about, called Kochab.
“So does that mean... that I didn’t get sent to another world, I got sent into the past?”
Kochab had been used as the North Star from approximately 1500 B.C. to 500 A.D. However, there had also apparently been a long period of time when Kochab was some distance off from the north celestial pole, and so people had used both it and the previous era’s North Star, Thuban, to calculate where north was.
The priest’s words implied the current situation here was similar.
“The spoked wheel was invented around 2000 B.C., so this has got to be sometime after that, at least,” Yuuto murmured. “Gahhh, that’s way too wide a margin!”
If he could take more precise measurements of the stars here, he might be able to get a more definite idea of what era he was in, but he didn’t have the instruments or the knowledge to do that. He sighed.
“Welp, guess I might as well buy some ebooks and do some studying.”
With that, Yuuto browsed through lists of books, downloading the ones that looked noteworthy with a quick tap.
Though so many had been sent off to battle, Iárnviðr was by no means emptied of its people. Life and business carried on in the city even during this time of war, though it somewhat lacked its usual lively energy.
“Stop the trial! Stop the trial!” Yuuto shouted as he pushed his way through a crowd of people gathered on a riverbank on the outskirts of town.
It was now three days since Loptr had taken the Wolf Clan army and departed for the front lines.
Yuuto was fully out of breath, having raced over there as soon as he’d heard the news.
“Whew... Somehow, I made it in time.” He exhaled in relief, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
By the looks of it, the accused, a middle-aged woman, had just begun to step off the bank into the river.
This was an Iárnviðr-style trial.
In the world of Yggdrasil, rivers were held very sacred. They provided bounty, nourishing the people and their crops, and yet they could also destroy those same lives and livelihoods with overflowing floodwaters.
And so in Iárnviðr, those suspected of a crime would be offered up to the mother of their prosperity, the Körmt River, thrown into the river to be judged by the holy spirits dwelling within. If they were guilty, they would be carried away by the current and drown, and if they were without sin, they would survive. It was, truly, an extremely rough and perfunctory method of deciding things.
“But Lord Yuuto, this woman might have been the one who killed my daughter!” A younger woman pleaded with Yuuto, casting a hateful glare towards the accused. “At this rate, my child’s soul will never be able to rest in peace!”
Those who committed crimes needed to be punished; Yuuto believed this. But for someone who had lived his whole life in Japan, using this ridiculous kind of “trial by ordeal” to determine guilt or innocence was the height of madness.
“I will take full personal responsibility and hold an investigation into whether this person is actually the culprit or not,” Yuuto announced firmly. “I’ll deliver the verdict in due course, so please wait until then.”
Yuuto was no god, and had no way of knowing for certain whether the accused woman had really committed the crime or not. He didn’t believe that so-called gods or spirits would know the truth, either. That was why he intended to conduct a proper investigation.
Until only a few days ago, Yuuto would have had no choice but to watch such a farce of a trial as a powerless onlooker. Even with many hailing him as the Child of Victory, Gleipsieg, officially he had still been only an honored guest of the second-in-command Loptr, with no actual authority within the clan.
But now, things were different. Yuuto had been appointed a clan officer at tenth rank, giving him more than enough discretionary authority. And if he did not use that power now, then when?
“Mama! Mama!” A child’s voice rang out from the direction of the accused, and when Yuuto turned to look he saw that a small girl of perhaps ten was clinging to the woman.
It seemed she had a daughter. It would be absolutely unforgivable to take that little girl’s mother from her for a crime she had not committed.
Yuuto couldn’t possibly have been more sure now that he had done the right thing. However...
“Lord Yuuto, please do not interfere,” the woman he had just saved reproached him. “My conscience is clear, and I have no misgivings.”
She went on to insist that to wait until he delivered his ruling while everyone else continued to view her with suspicion would be unbearable, while if she entrusted her life to the gods, it would be all over in a moment. She told him that because she had done nothing wrong, she believed for certain that she would be spared.
For Yuuto, it was the kind of statement the phrase “jaw-dropping” was meant to describe.
It was true that, in Yggdrasil, there were people like the Einherjar with magical powers, said to be chosen by the gods. It might be possible that supernatural existences like gods existed here, too. But even if that were true, those gods only bestowed their blessings on a very tiny number of people.
Just how could people have so much faith in these so-called gods? It gave Yuuto a headache thinking about it.
“Yuuto, it doesn’t do to be too greedy,” a man insisted. “Common wisdom tells us that a severe punishment from the gods befalls those who seek to gain hold of more than has been allotted to them.”
“Like I’ve been saying, if we plant clover, it will actually restore the fields,” Yuuto snapped. “It will serve as food for livestock, and the dung from that livestock can be used as manure, so it will also fertilize the soil and increase the yield for next year’s harvest!”
“No, no, that’s simply impossible!” the man shot back. “Consecutive plantings weakens the strength of the soil. Indeed, such is the same of everything in this world; it is consumed when we use it. The idea that something would increase by using it, why, that goes against the very laws of the gods.”
The man brought the palm of his hand down on the table with a thud and resolutely rejected the idea.
He was a man past his prime, and the top of his head had gone bald, leaving hair only on the sides. Though most in the clan had come to praise Yuuto and hail him as the Child of Victory, Gleipsieg, there were still more than a few who refused to acknowledge him.
This man was perhaps the forefront of that sect, and his name was Bruno. As the head priest, he was in charge of managing the Wolf Clan’s holy ceremonies, rites, and their related etiquette. And he had hated Yuuto with a passion ever since the moment the young man had suddenly appeared in the middle of a rite being led by Felicia.
He didn’t hesitate to publicly state things like, “That one is not sent to us by the goddess, but by devils. That sinister black hair of his is proof.”
He had served Patriarch Fárbauti faithfully for over forty years as his trusted subordinate and sworn younger brother, and so was a very influential voice within the clan. There was no greater impediment to Yuuto than this man, and also no greater irritant.
“Auughh, come on already!” His frustration at its peak, Yuuto ran his fingers wildly through his hair.
Their argument had already continued in this manner for over an hour, without any progress to show for it. Yuuto had done thorough research on the subject using his smartphone, and had explained it to them with perfectly logical arguments, but all he was getting back was “the gods this, the gods that.” This was hardly even a real discussion.
Compounded with his earlier experience with the trial by ordeal, the idiocy of this situation had completely worn through Yuuto’s patience.
“Naturally, Yuuto, I am aware that you are well versed in a variety of knowledge, the method to refine iron being one such example,” Bruno continued. “But I’ve also heard that your projects often fail. The Wolf Clan has only a very small amount of land with soil suitable for farming, and we cannot afford even the slightest risk of losing that!”
All of the other clan officers present nodded vigorously at Bruno’s words.
It seemed that there wasn’t a single person in the room who was willing to give Yuuto their approval. He was completely alone here.
Still, Yuuto raised his voice again, refusing to give up. “It’s because there’s so little farmable land that we must use it as effectively as possible! If you sit on your hands because of the fear of failure, then the clan will always remain poor! Think of your children now, and the children soon to be born. What’s the point if you can’t give them enough food to fill their stomachs?!”
Not a day went by in which Yuuto didn’t see hungry-looking children as he walked the streets of town. Every time he saw them, he was filled with indignation and the feeling that he had to do something about it.
It was already almost time to harvest the barley crops. According to what he’d confirmed on the internet, clover should be planted next after barley.
Confucius had once said, “To see what is right and not to do it is want of courage.”
It would be one thing if Yuuto had lacked the necessary knowledge, but now that he knew it, it would be wasteful for him to allow those fields to be left fallow.
Yuuto continued making impassioned arguments for some time after that, but in the end, he did not convince a single one of the hard-headed men in that room to agree with him.
That night, Yuuto stormed up to the hörgr at the top of the Hliðskjálf.
“To hell with the gods!” Yuuto shouted, violently (and disrespectfully) kicking the walls. “If you think your gods are so great and righteous, then you can all take your stupid principles and jump in the river and you can fucking drown!”
“Well well, you’re pitching quite the fit, aren’t ya?” commented a hoarse old voice mixed with dry laughter from behind him.
It was the familiar voice of the man he’d crossed paths with in this place many times now.
“Oh, it’s you, gramps,” Yuuto said, turning around. “What, you’re here drinking again? If you don’t cut that out, you’re seriously gonna ruin your health.”
It was, of course, Fárbauti.
Yuuto visited the sacred tower frequently in order to call Mitsuki, and Fárbauti loved to come here at night and drink under the moonlight. It only made sense that they saw each other often here.
The old patriarch gave an affected shake of his head, as if to say good grief. “I’m not ‘gramps’ to you, not anymore. Did you forget the face of the father you exchanged the Oath of the Chalice with? Just deplorable.”
“Ahh, right, I guess you’re my ‘old man’ now, huh, Dad? I totally forgot.”
“Hmph, and you’re still the same bratty kid who doesn’t know how to talk with respect.”
“Ha, and you’re the same shitty dad who always has to have the last word.”
With that exchange of insults, the two of them smirked at each other knowingly, then laughed out loud.
By now, they had an unspoken understanding that the first thing they did whenever they met each other here was to throw a few abusive lines back and forth.
Of course, when Yuuto had met Fárbauti here his second time, he had given a full and properly respectful apology for the initial rudeness he’d displayed before. The response had been a slew of remarks like “Talking like that doesn’t suit you,” and “It just sounds tedious coming from you,” and “Your heart’s not even in it.”
Yuuto had stuck to just speaking bluntly and frankly after that.
At first it had just been a reaction to being pissed off, with no deep thought behind it, but years later, after becoming the patriarch, Yuuto would look back and understand Fárbauti’s feelings.
The patriarch was, obviously, the most important person in the nation, whom everyone owed their loyalty and service to. Being revered and held in such esteem also meant always being treated with a certain distance.
He was a strong old man, who never seemed to be perturbed or shaken or lose his sense of dry wit no matter what the situation. He had lived a full life abundant with experiences both bitter and sweet. Yet he felt some sort of loneliness, and wanted at least one person with whom he could speak frankly and casually.
“That reminds me.” The old patriarch lowered himself down to the floor, took out a flask made from sheep’s stomach, and began pouring alcohol from it into a cup. “I heard you had it out with Bruno.”
Yuuto couldn’t keep himself from grimacing at hearing the name of the man who irritated him so much. As to be expected of the patriarch, Fárbauti had caught wind of the situation from earlier in the day.
“Yeah, I did,” Yuuto snorted. “I wonder if there’s anything I can do about that pigheaded idiot. All he does is get in my way.”
“Keh-heh-heh, you’re a real funny guy, you know. You know all sorts of things, but it looks like you don’t know the first thing about people.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that supposed to mean, Dad?”
“No one’s going to give your ideas a pass in public if you don’t lay a little groundwork with them first, if you catch my drift.” With a mischievous chuckle, the old patriarch took a swig from his cup.
Yuuto bristled, feeling that he was somehow being mocked. “Sneaking around and lobbying people behind the scenes isn’t my style.”
Yuuto was confident that he could push his ideas through without having to do anything underhanded.
In Yggdrasil, people still only planted every other year, so if he could implement the Norfolk system of crop rotation here, there would be a veritable explosion in agricultural production. It would even have a snowball effect in the years to come! His plan would have made everyone happier, and at no one’s expense. That was how ground-breaking it was.
For sure, if he could just explain that properly to everyone, they would understand. And yet all his efforts had been quashed by some incomprehensible concept of “the gods.”
Of course he felt like kicking the walls of the hörgr after something like that.
“You’re still so green,” Fárbauti said with amusement. “Well, this time around, there’s no way they would’ve agreed to it, even if you had gone around and tried to lay the groundwork first.”
“...Why?” Yuuto demanded. “If we did this, nobody would have trouble getting food anymore. How can there be no way they’d say yes?!”
Unable to accept what he was hearing, and unable to accept this situation, Yuuto took out his pent-up anger on Patriarch Fárbauti.
The white-haired old man took a drink, gave a long exhale that smelled of alcohol, and said, “It’s simple. Of course, fear and respect for the gods is one part of the reason, but... much more than that, it’s ’cause they feel like their positions are threatened by you as you move up the ranks.”
“......What?”
It was such a completely unexpected answer, it took Yuuto almost a full ten seconds to comprehend the old patriarch’s words. Even once he finally understood them, he still didn’t understand them.
It was just way too stupid.
“Hey, hold on a minute, Dad. Do those guys really understand the situation the Wolf Clan is in right now?”
At that very moment, the second-in-command Loptr and the other warriors of the Wolf Clan were marching towards the forces of the Claw Clan, fully prepared to fight to the death.
Thanks to selling off some samples of Yuuto’s creations, they’d somehow managed to secure enough provisions for the soldiers heading off to battle, but by prioritizing them it meant there was still an enormous shortage of food in the city. Right now, there were tons of hungry people in Iárnviðr unable to get enough food to get by.
He knew the old patriarch wasn’t the one to blame here, but he couldn’t keep himself from screaming in anger. “Is this any time to be screwing around and playing politics?!”
His plan would have made everyone in the Wolf Clan more prosperous as a whole. Hearing that the reason they rejected it was something like “they just wanted to sabotage your success” was as idiotic as it could get.
“No matter the time or place, people put themselves and their own feelings first,” Fárbauti said. “It’s just part of being human. Of course, that doesn’t necessarily apply to everybody.”
The old patriarch’s words were the type of profound outlook he’d gleaned from decades of experience leading and managing other people as the head of a nation, but they weren’t something the young Yuuto could understand or accept.
He couldn’t help thinking that if everyone could all just put their selfish feelings aside for a bit and think of the big picture, everything would work out so much better.
“Well, you just need to think about these things a little more objectively,” the old patriarch added. “I mean, you’re only halfway through your teens, and you’ve already exchanged the Oath of the Chalice directly with me and risen to tenth-ranked in the clan.”
“Hey, I never even asked for any of that,” Yuuto shot back. “You were the one who pushed the idea on me.”
“Just listen. So, you’ve got this new rank and status, and even though you just joined the clan and you’re nothing more than a glorified craftsman, you’re butting your nose into government affairs. And into agriculture, one of the pillars of our survival. That’s not going to sit well with anybody.”
“Ugh...”
“Oh, that reminds me, Yuuto. I heard you used the salary I gave you to hire people to do something as silly as cleaning the streets.”
“It’s not silly at all,” Yuuto said. “The city’s got a lot of raw garbage lying around, not to mention excrement from people, dogs, and cats. If you let that stuff go unchecked, it makes it easier for diseases to spread.”
For a good while after coming to Yggdrasil, Yuuto had been thoroughly traumatized by constant stomach pains and illness. After that kind of experience, he couldn’t tolerate how unsanitary things were.
He’d made a similar proposal to Loptr once, but perhaps because of how busy the man already was, no kind of garbage clean-up had begun. So, now that Yuuto was a clan officer himself, he’d decided to carry it out on his own.
“Oho, I see,” said Fárbauti. “So that’s what you were trying to do.”
“Well, it’s also because I think having a cleaner city just feels better, too.”
It was only three days after putting the plan into effect, but all of the accumulated garbage had been cleaned off of the streets, and Yuuto was feeling pretty satisfied with himself.
“Keh-heh-heh, I’ll tell you what Bruno and the others think about it. ‘Even though he’s just become an officer, look at him putting all his efforts into trying to buy popularity with the citizens. Looks like he just wants to get himself even higher up in the clan,’ is about the size of it.”
“Wha— Whaaaaaat?!” Yuuto was shocked, his mouth agape at the misdirected suspicions that had been directed at him.
His heart was filled with feelings of disgust. Honestly, the idea was so ugly that he didn’t even want to understand it.
Looking up towards the sky, the old patriarch then spoke to Yuuto as if he could see right through to those feelings in his heart. “Yuuto. The light you give off is strong. Like the sun shining in the sky. However, where there is light, there will always be shadows.”
“Shadows?”
“Yes. The light you give off has the power to give hope to many people, and brighten their lives, but that same power also draws out the darkness within people’s hearts. I’m no different. If I were ten years younger, I bet I’d be scared deep down that you might be plotting to unseat me and take my place. Even now I’m jealous of you, thinking, ‘If only I had his knowledge and wisdom.’ If I were thirty years younger, and had just finally gotten ahold of the position and status I’d worked so, so hard for, for so long, only for some young whelp overtake me in a flash, I’m sure I’d have hated you.”
“That’s so freaking stupid.” Yuuto cast aside what he was hearing with that one curt remark. Honestly, all he could think was how unimportant all of that stuff was to him.
“You’re right, it is stupid,” said Fárbauti. “But... clinging to power and authority does things to a man’s heart. Many men are hailed as great heroes, only for a stupid thing like that to pull their feet right out from under them. Be careful.”
“Such rapid troop movements, and with such ferocity,” the man muttered to himself, stroking his flabby chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I’d say the second-in-command Loptr must be the one commanding them.”
His round belly bulged outward, and his appearance gave the impression he was a sluggish and sedentary man. He looked like the type who would instantly fall prey to the enemy if he fought on the front lines.
His face beamed with a cheerful and very friendly-looking smile. But his eyes were completely different.
The glint in his narrowed eyes was chilly and without a trace of emotion, like the eyes of some reptilian predator focused on its prey.
His name was Botvid, and he was the current patriarch of the Claw Clan.
He was currently in a hilly area a day’s march east of Fort Gnipahellir. It was here that the armies of the Wolf and Claw Clans had met and immediately locked horns in battle.
In contrast to his own clan’s twenty-five hundred men, his enemy only had fifteen hundred or so.
Originally, Botvid had sneered at their apparent folly, thinking, They have a lot of nerve thinking they can come directly at me with numbers like that. But, as it turned out, the Claw Clan was the one finding itself being pushed back.
“I’d like to simply chalk it up to the man known as the Sire of Lightning Within the Storm, but even then this is still a bit much,” he muttered. “Now I wonder, have the fighters of the Wolf Clan ever been strong enough to be able to overwhelm a far superior force with a frontal assault like this?”
A young girl standing at Botvid’s right side nodded in agreement with him. “Indeed, it is true that their second-in-command is the greatest military commander in the Wolf Clan. However, I would think that the enemy’s strength is not due to that alone.”
The girl was around eleven or twelve years in age and had a sweet, adorable appearance. However, her eyes held a cool, calculating intelligence within them, as though they could see through to the true nature of all things.
“Oh? So that would mean the information you brought me was accurate after all, eh, Kris?” the patriarch of the Claw Clan asked.
“Yes. It seems that the Wolf Clan really has succeeded in refining iron.”
“Hmmm. Then this so-called Gleipsieg may not altogether be a farce after all, either. Heh! Heh heh heh!” Botvid broke into delighted laughter.
The enemy general was a young but skilled commander, renowned in the region, and the troops he was leading were a powerful, elite force armed with strong and sturdy iron equipment.
And the results of this battle had convinced Botvid of one thing: In a straightforward confrontation, he had no chance of winning whatsoever.
Botvid didn’t stop laughing, despite understanding that — no, it was because he understood it. “So, in other words, if we can get our hands on him, then this war of conquest will turn in my favor, won’t it?”
“Yes; I have heard he has been creating many other strange and marvelous items for them, one after the other. If those were in our possession, I believe we could more than make up for our losses this time.”
“I see, I see.”
Suddenly, another small girl standing at Botvid’s left side cried out in a loud voice, “I want to eat gritless bread!”
It was at complete odds with the mood of the conversation up to that point.
Her physical appearance was identical to that of the girl Botvid had previously been speaking to, but this girl had an air of positivity and carefree innocence about her.
The girl with cold eyes let out an exasperated sigh. “Honestly, you are such a glutton, Al.”
“But, but, ever since hearing about it, I’ve been wanting to eat it so bad I can’t stand it!” As if right on cue, the innocent girl’s stomach gurgled loudly. It seemed she was currently hungry, as well.
“Just deplorable,” the cold-eyed girl sneered. “Al, think about where you are right now. Even now, our soldiers are in the middle of fighting desperately on the front lines. Conduct yourself more seriously.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“That said, I knew this would happen with you, Al.” The girl with the cold eyes smirked. “And so, I got some of it for you in advance. I’m far too indulgent with you, you know. Really, it is such hardship having such a greedy, petty-minded sister.”
“Yaaay, Kris! That’s my sister. I love you!”
“So then, I’ll trade it for all of your allowance for this month.”
“Isn’t that way more greedy and petty-minded, Kris?!” The innocent girl’s eyes went wide at the outrageous price. However, apparently the tasty-looking treat in front of her was too hard to resist in her current hungry state. “A-all right. I-it’s a deal!”
She agreed to the offer in an almost heartbroken voice, and took the bread from her sister.
“Alllll right then, I wonder how it tastes! Ahhhhh!” The innocent girl opened her mouth wide and bit down hard on the bread—
Clack!
“Owwwwww!!”
—and let out a pitiful cry of pain.
She had always eaten her bread with careful and deliberate small bites, wary of the tiny particles of stone that could be mixed in. Believing there were none this time, she had bitten into the bread with a large, powerful chomp.
“Heh heh heh,” the other girl snickered. “Al, you really are too cute.”
“Forward! Push forward! Force your way through! Victory is within our grasp!” Loptr cried out to his troops, even as he struck down the Claw Clan soldier attacking him, breaking his enemy’s sword with the blow.
From the moment the battle started, the Wolf Clan had been dominating it.
That was, undeniably, due to their dreadfully powerful iron weapons. Several repeated clashes were enough to damage or destroy their opponents’ weapons and shields. And furthermore, that same iron equipment was lighter and easier to use than its bronze counterpart.
The enemy had greater numbers, but that was no longer enough to be significant. It was truly hard to believe this was the same enemy force they had suffered devastating losses to in the previous year.
For the soldiers who had grimly hardened their resolve to march into this decisive battle, it was honestly anticlimactic.
“Loptr!” a man shouted. “I shall take that head of yours!”
“Guah!” Loptr barely managed to block the heavy iron axe that swung downward at him. But that overwhelmingly heavy blow left his arms numb.
There was only one man Loptr knew of within the Claw Clan who possessed both such incredible strength and an iron weapon.
He was the Einherjar of the rune Alsviðr, the Horse who Responds to its Rider. He was the Claw Clan’s greatest warrior, equivalent in strength to the Wolf Clan’s own strongest, the Mánagarmr Skáviðr. His name was—
“Mundilfäri!”
“Ha!” Mundilfäri shouted. “So you were able to withstand my attack. It seems you really have obtained iron!”
Using sheer strength to forcefully push forward, the bearded man stuck his face in close, the corners of his mouth turning upward in a smirk. This man was even more frightfully strong than Loptr had heard.
Loptr was not foolish enough to attempt to stand toe-to-toe in a contest of strength with such a monster.
Loptr took a deep breath. Then, for just an instant, he relaxed his muscles, and with perfect timing, blew.
“Uwah?!” Mundilfäri cried out in surprise, for in that instant, Loptr had made his axe slip.
Taking advantage of the opening as his opponent’s body moved sideways, Loptr attacked with his sword. “I don’t think so!”
Stomping a foot powerfully against the ground, Mundilfäri forcefully stopped his body’s momentum, and retaliated with an axe swing that repelled Loptr’s sword.
Loptr made the axe slip again, and brandished his blade in a horizontal, sweeping attack, but it was as if Mundilfäri could read his moves. Without a hint of panic, the bearded man leapt effortlessly backwards, and Loptr’s sword met only empty air.
“Tch, you really are skilled.” Loptr clicked his tongue in irritation and quickly renewed his stance.
“I can’t believe at your age you’ve managed to master the technique that withered old willow of a wolf uses,” Mundilfäri sneered. “So the rumors are true: That rune of yours, the Jester of a Thousand Illusions, Alþiófr, really can steal techniques from other people. But in the end, it’s only mimicry. It won’t work against me. I’ve dealt with the real thing plenty of times before now, after all.”
Mundilfäri tapped a finger to where a scar ran in a long, horizontal line across the bridge of his nose, and grinned proudly. Apparently it was a badge of honor from a wound obtained while fighting Skáviðr.
In other words, he had crossed blades several times with the Wolf Clan’s greatest fighter, the Strongest Silver Wolf, Mánagarmr, and had survived with only that mere injury. That marked him as an incredibly fierce warrior.
“Hee hee,” Loptr snickered. “So then, if I take you down, I can take the title of Mánagarmr for myself, don’t you think?”
“A wet-behind-the-ears brat like you? Not in a million years!”
Having finished delivering their boasts, they brought sword and axe to bear against each other once again.
What followed was no less than dozens of clashes, with no clear victor yet emerging.
But little by little, the equilibrium began to shift.
In terms of strength and technique, they were on par with each other, but there was one difference: Mundilfäri had faced a strong enemy using the same weapon and techniques before, and so he had a slight edge on Loptr in experience.
Mundilfäri quit relying on single, powerful blows, and began to use more and more rapid strikes. He was built like a bear, yet his movements were unbelievably agile and deft.
It was no longer easy to deflect his blows, or to make his weapon slip. Just as the man had boasted, he was quite experienced at fighting against Skáviðr’s techniques.
“This is it! Die!” With a rending howl, Mundilfäri swung his iron axe straight down onto Loptr’s head.
The golden-haired young man’s body was unceremoniously split clean in two —
— however, it offered no feeling of resistance, and there was no vivid spray of blood. It wavered, like a reflection on the water, and then disappeared.
“Guagh!” In the next instant, Mundilfäri cried out as intense pain and heat surged through his left eye.
An average person would have hunched over or dropped to the ground from the pain, but his warrior’s survival instincts were stronger. He promptly leapt backwards, and was able to catch sight of the accursed enemy who had just taken his eye.
“Hm. Seems I came up half a step short.” Loptr clicked his tongue again. The tip of the sword in his hand was dripping with blood.
Both sides of his body were fully joined together, and both of his feet were planted firmly on the ground.
“Damn you! So you used a galldr...!” Pressing his hand to his left eye, Mundilfäri hurled his accusation like a curse in a raspy voice. That hand grew more and more stained with his blood.
A galldr was a type of magical technique in which spells were woven into songs, and they could cause various effects on those who heard them. What Mundilfäri had cut apart was an illusion born from one of those spells.
“That’s right. I had my little sister let me steal one from her.”
“Kh! I can’t believe I of all people, fell for such a trick!”
“With just the one eye, you’ll never be able to keep up with my attacks now,” Loptr mocked. “By taking the head of the Claw Clan’s greatest hero, the morale of my men will only rise even further. The Wolf Clan... will be victorious!”
“Ngh...!”
“Don’t worry, you won’t be alone for long. I’ll soon send that fox-faced, scheming patriarch of yours to join you in the realm of the dead. Now hold still, and let me add your blood to my blade!”
With that final, cold pronouncement, Loptr stepped forward to deliver the killing blow to Mundilfäri.
“Raaaaaaaaaaaaghhhh!!”
“Uryaaaaaaaaaghhhh!!”
Suddenly, a deafening chorus of battle cries rising up from both his left and his right stopped him in his tracks.
Loptr had no idea what was going on.
Judging by the voices’ volume, and the way they shook the air, each group must have no fewer than one thousand men.
“A-an ambush?!” he gasped. But how could the Claw Clan have enough soldiers to employ that strategy?
With their current national strength, the Claw Clan should have been able to field at most two thousand to twenty-five hundred soldiers. Reports from the spies sent to infiltrate their territory had confirmed as much.
And yet, now the number of enemy soldiers blocking and surrounding the Wolf Clan troops was clearly much greater than that.
Something was clearly wrong here. The numbers didn’t add up.
However, this was definitely not a trick or illusion.
From the left and right came the loud reverberations of countless feet as the enemy reinforcements charged forward, a sound that was soon overtaken by the whirlwind of screams and angry roars, and the clashing of metal against metal.
“At last. Heh heh heh, they sure kept me waiting.” Mundilfäri’s shoulders shook from his laughter. His face wore a smile that said he was absolutely certain of his victory.
In truth, the outcome of the battle had indeed already been determined.
Their armies’ troop formations were structured in order to destroy enemies in front of them.
Because of that structure, they were incredibly vulnerable to assaults from the sides or rear.
Put another way, one could say that a core part of battlefield tactics was the problem of how to effectively strike at those weaknesses.
Surrounded on three sides, with attacks coming from the left, right, and from ahead, even the Wolf Clan army with its powerful iron weapons was at far too great a disadvantage.
They had no chance of winning.
In the blink of an eye, feelings of anxiety began to spread within the hearts of the Wolf Clan soldiers.
It didn’t take very long at all for those feelings to morph into despair.
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