Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria - Volume 6 - Chapter 6

ACT 6 

From his vantage point, a man looked down disdainfully upon the Lightning Clan forces as they charged their way out of the pincer attack and began to exit the battlefield. He howled with raucous laughter. 

“You boasted so confidently to Narfi about defeating him first, and yet it looks like in the end you weren’t able to do it, eh? My redheaded ‘brother.’ Keh heh heh! HAHAHAHAHA!” 

He was, in a word, disturbing to look at. 

The upper half of his face was covered by a jet-black mask except for his piercing eyes, which seemed to surge with a sinister aura of madness. 

The rest of him was quite different: His lower face was clean-cut and pretty, and he had a tall, slender build and fine golden hair. This noble-looking appearance only served to accentuate the sense of warped strangeness about him. 

This man was Hveðrungr, patriarch of the Panther Clan. 

“I knew there was a trap laid,” Hveðrungr said. “That was a close call.” 

Originally, Hveðrungr’s plan had been to have Steinþórr break through the Wolf Clan’s “wagon wall” defenses, and at that point bring his forces onto the scene, as well. They’d combine the strength of both armies and focus it at the front, charging forward to take out the enemy in one fell swoop. 

But while he had been making those plans, a sudden thought had entered his mind. 

Hveðrungr was absolutely certain that Steinþórr could break through the wagon wall. Wouldn’t Yuuto, who had actually fought against the monstrously powerful Einherjar before, anticipate the same thing and formulate some sort of strategy in response? 

That prediction had come true. 

If the Panther Clan had followed the script and charged in right after the Lightning Clan, they would have also found themselves lured into being surrounded by the enemy’s formation. Crushed between the jaws of the wolf, as it were. 

But because they hadn’t... 

“Now I’ve gotten you to use up your signature move, Yuuto. Keh heh heh heh...” Hveðrungr’s laughter refused to settle down, and he brought a hand to his mouth. 

Over the winter months, he had used some of the personal connections he’d formed back during his time as the Wolf Clan’s second-in-command, and thoroughly studied data on every battle the Wolf Clan had fought over the past two years. 

That was how he’d learned of their “Hammer and Anvil” strategy, where units attacking from the front draw the enemy’s attention, and another, highly mobile force quickly assaults them from the flank or rear. 

Surely the Wolf Clan would not expect that same strategy to be employed against them. Not only would this take them by surprise, it also made for a great strategy because it fit quite well with the makeup and temperament of the respective Panther Clan and Lightning Clan armies. 

Thus, the plan having been decided upon, Hveðrungr had made every effort to increase the chances of its success. 

He’d already gotten wind of the fact that the daughters of the Claw Clan patriarch Botvid, that cunning old fox who’d tormented the Wolf Clan so often in the past, had fallen in with Yuuto. And so, he’d taken meticulous care to preserve the secrecy of this operation. 

Thoroughly concealing the relationship between the Panther and Lightning Clans, and using skirmishes to feign continued interest towards the city of Myrkviðr, he had diverted some of the Wolf Clan’s attention in that direction. 

As for moving his main army, he had sent them to the Vanaheimr region in small groups over time, disguising them as merchant caravans or transporting them by ship so the enemy would not discover them. 

Once in Vanaheimr, he’d deliberately had them march them through roundabout, dangerous routes distant from the main roads, in order to avoid the eyes of spies. 

Indeed, all of that had been for the sake of this one moment. 

Right now the Wolf Clan army’s thinly defended flank lay exposed right in front of the Panther Clan. The cavalry-thwarting wagon wall defenses had been set up on the Wolf Clan front lines, focused ahead. 

Additionally, the Wolf Clan had just finished a hard-fought battle against the Lightning Clan, and should be coming down off of the tension from that. 

He had spent years working towards vengeance for his humiliation, and now the conditions could not be more ideal. 

Hveðrungr threw his arm outward, causing his mantle to catch the air dramatically, and in a loud voice, delivered his command. “Everyone! The time has come to revenge the disgrace we suffered! Kill and kill and kill until there’s nothing left! All troops... charge!!”

“Another enemy attack?! Just where did they come from?!” David grimaced as he glared at the legion of armed riders that had suddenly appeared. 

By all appearances, they had to be the Panther Clan. 

They were the enemy the Wolf Clan had last fought in lands far to the north, in Náströnd north of the Örmt River. 

They were an enemy that should not be here now. 

“What is going on here?!” David shouted. 

David was far from incompetent as an officer; he was a man of outstanding talent, having been promoted to assistant to the second of the Jörgen Family at the comparatively young age of twenty-eight. 

It was already settled that he would one day exchange the Oath of the Chalice directly with Patriarch Yuuto, so the clan had high hopes for his future career, as well. 

But this competent man was now in the throes of extreme confusion. 

The David Unit had, until just a moment ago, been occupied with attacking the Lightning Clan forces pushing their way into the center of the Wolf Clan’s ox yoke formation. 

This new enemy attack had pretty much caught them completely from behind. 

“W-we have to turn around!” David hurriedly shouted. “All troops! Reverse course!” 

Despite the rapid command, his formation reacted with movements as slow as molasses. 

The David Unit was an infantry regiment of five hundred men. At that size, even just turning the unit around to face the other way was not easy. 

More than anything, his soldiers were confused. 

They had just “won,” and had unwisely chosen to pause for a moment of rest. 

Like re-tying a fully taut string that has snapped, it is no easy task to re-establish the tension and focus of combat once it has been released. 

And as they were struggling to collect themselves, the Panther Clan closed the distance and began their attack.

“Take that, and that, and that!” Váli fired off arrow after arrow in continuous succession even as he spurred on his horse. 

He might not be much compared to a monster like Steinþórr, but he was still a master of the bow and the greatest mounted archer in the Panther Clan. 

Every one of his arrows precisely hit their mark, right between the eyes of the Wolf Clan soldiers. 

He received no counterattacks. The Wolf Clan soldiers simply continued to fall into panic as they suffered his attacks. 

“Hah! Slow as slugs!” Váli gloated. 

In the last war, the Wolf Clan and their three-rank volley fire from crossbows had managed to repel the elite band of riders under Váli’s command. This group of soldiers was panicking so terribly they didn’t even seem like the same army to him. 

“Well, that works out fine for me. I’ll make them pay me back for what happened to my men before!” Váli raised his voice and called out to his riders. “All right, you bastards, let’s get ’em!!” 

The Panther Clan soldiers responded by roaring in unison. “Yeaaaaahhhh!!” 

Tossing aside their bows, they readied spears and plunged directly into the Wolf Clan ranks. 

One of them used the momentum of his horse’s charge to run his spear right through one Wolf Clan soldier after another like a skewer. Another unleashed a lightning-fast sweeping horizontal slash with the spearhead which tore through the neck of his enemy. Still another used his horse directly as a weapon, ramming into soldiers and sending them flying. 

In the face of this rapid, furious assault, the Wolf Clan formation could offer little real resistance, and they began dropping like flies. 

It was one-sided, completely and utterly one-sided. 

The chaos and confusion only bred more panic, eating away at the hearts of the remaining soldiers. And, in the end... 

“Aaaauughh! I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna diiiie!” 

“I can’t take this! I can’t take this anymore!!” 

A few soldiers threw down their weapons and tried to run for their lives. 

The sight of one person fleeing served as a catalyst for another, and so on with another. 

In moments, this had swept throughout the entire unit, and there was a veritable current of soldiers attempting to flee. 

“Dammit, don’t run!” their general shouted. “Fight! Why won’t you fools fight?!” 

But at this point, however much their commander might bark at them, it wasn’t going to do any good. His commands weren’t going to sway the fighters who had fallen into such a frenzied state of fear and confusion. They simply kept running, trying to find a means of escape from the battle. 

“Hmph, that must be the head of this group.” Spotting his target with his sharp eyes, Váli grinned cruelly and licked his lips. He kicked his horse and quickly closed the distance. 

“Wha?!” The enemy general cried out in surprise as he noticed Váli’s approach, but it was already too late. 

“So long!” Váli’s spear thrust went right through the man’s chest.

“Sir, Lord David has been killed in battle!” a messenger shouted. 

“The enemy is cutting deeper into the formation!” another one joined in. 

“Sir, a message from the Alrekr Unit! R-requesting urgent reinforcements!” 

One after another, messengers from the units on the field arrived to bring Yuuto reports, all of them bad. 

“Urgh! At this rate...” Yuuto gritted his teeth. 

The situation was only continuing to grow worse. Yuuto was overcome with a feeling of terrible apprehension. Was an army on the field truly so fragile, such that once it began to crumble in places, it could fall apart so easily in a chain reaction? 

He clenched his teeth even tighter. This experience was a total first for him. 

“If only Skáviðr were here, then...” In a moment of weakness, those words fell from Yuuto’s lips. 

Surely the man who once held the title of Mánagarmr, the experienced veteran who was always so composed, would have been able to give him pinpoint advice even in this desperate situation. 

Or perhaps Skáviðr would have been able to ride out to the front lines himself, buying just a little bit more time for Yuuto to think up a solution himself. 

But he wasn’t here right now. 

Skáviðr was far away, charged with guarding the city of Myrkviðr. 

Even riding at top speed on fast horses, it would take three days to get here from there. 

“Big Brother, we should withdraw,” Felicia said. “The outcome of war is swayed by timing and fortune. Even for someone as great as yourself, not every battle can end in victory. Let us pull back our forces from this place so that we may rebuild them.” 

“Ngh!” Yuuto winced painfully at Felicia’s words, and bit his lower lip. 

In his head, he knew it already. But it was still hard to hear that painful reality through someone else’s words. 

“Is that... really all we can do...?” Yuuto murmured, as if struggling to get the words out. 

His rational mind screamed at him that he should begin the withdrawal. 

But right now it was a different and more absurdly powerful sense of danger that held sway over his heart. 

This would be completely different from the fake retreat he had once used to bait the Lightning Clan. They would effectively be fleeing in defeat. 

The enemy would be sure to pursue them and continue attacking as they fled. 

Given that, the Wolf Clan forces would suffer tremendous casualties unlike anything they’d been subjected to so far. 

Likewise, disaster would fall upon the local residents of this territory. 

The men would all be killed, the women violated, and the children sold off as slaves. Even for those who managed to escape such a fate, with all of the food stores in the area plundered or destroyed, only death by starvation awaited them. 

Sun Tzu and Machiavelli both argued the same thing in their works: When the situation calls for it, one must be logical, even cold and ruthless. 

One must quickly discard concern over that which is hopeless, in order to still be able to protect the things that were not. That was the wise thing to do, and Yuuto understood that. 

But even so, he just could not bring himself to choose that option. 

He couldn’t allow himself to be that heartless. 

Unfortunately, regardless of what his heart allowed, the hopeless reality on the ground hadn’t changed. 

What was he supposed to do? 

How could he break out of this crisis and turn things around? 

Isn’t there anything I can do? There has to be something! 

Yuuto found himself bitterly resenting his own lack of power. At a time like this, if only he’d had Steinþórr’s overwhelming strength in battle, he could have saved everyone. 

“...Oh!” Suddenly inspiration flashed through his mind like a revelation from on high. 

It was an idea terribly fraught with danger. 

However, it felt like the only thing left he could try.

The Wolf Clan front line was like a scene out of hell, filled with soldiers out of their minds and screaming. 

“Waaaughhh!!” 

“Eeeek!” 

“G-Goddess, please...!” 

“Mother!” 

They were no longer proud fighters of the Wolf Clan; they had been reduced to a pitiful flock of sheep, unable to do anything but cry in terror of the Panther Clan riders who charged in and hunted them down. 

Fear completely controlled their hearts. Even the concept of fighting back had long since flown from their minds. Every one of them was consumed only with not wanting to die, struggling to look for a means of escape and survive this nightmare. 

At this point, it was only a matter of time before the entire Wolf Clan army would follow suit. 

That was when it happened. 

The loud, piercing sound of bronze war gongs echoed out across the battlefield. 

Ally and enemy alike reflexively turned to look in the direction of the sound. 

They saw a host of Wolf Clan fighters charging in their direction, countless clan banners flying. 

They saw the chariot at the head of the mass of troops, leading the way. 

They saw the young man dressed all in black standing atop it! 

“Warriors of the Wolf Clan, do not falter!” the young man screamed at the top of his lungs. 

Despite it being in the middle of a battlefield, his voice reached the soldiers’ ears, and their hearts. 

Yuuto himself was certainly blessed with a voice that carried well, but there was a greater factor at play: The moment they saw the figure of their undefeated commander-in-chief, the Wolf Clan soldiers regained a bit of their composure, and quieted, which helped his voice carry further. 

Yuuto threw out his hand, and continued shouting. “Don’t give up! Grab your spears, and resume your formation! Lock the wagons back together! We haven’t lost this yet!” he shouted with all of his might. 

This was the solution Yuuto had found, the only act that might rescue his army from the brink of death. 

One might call it reckless, and that might certainly be true. 

However, this was also the only thing he could do to revive the spirits of the soldiers who, faced with certain defeat, had fully lost the will to fight back. 

One need only consider why the Lightning Clan fighters always maintained such abnormally high morale. 

Steinþórr’s individual strength played a part, sure, but it was because their supreme commander always fought with them, leading on the front lines. 

The one-time conqueror of Sengoku Period Japan, Oda Nobunaga, had placed incredible generals like Shibata Katsuie and Mori Yoshinari at the head of his army, but it was said that he himself had also ridden out from his command formation in the rear up to the front lines to encourage them and fight beside them, strengthening their morale. 

Another one of Nobunaga’s generals, Maeda Toshiie, had gone on to control the largest and most prosperous feudal domain in Japan after the end of the Sengoku Period wars, and even in his later years, he had recalled how being inspired personally by witnessing his leader fighting up close: 

“If the commander only spends the battle in his camp, then once the first and second lines have been breached, the enemy will surely force their way ever closer, and he will face defeats he did not expect.” 

There was also Alexander the Great, who, even after establishing his grand empire, had traveled to the front lines during times of war to encourage his troops, even suffering injuries at times because of this. 

Why would soldiers be drawn to follow someone who kept himself in safety and only gave them orders? 

Indeed, they wouldn’t be. They would only be inspired to follow someone who took action and led them personally, without regard for the danger. 

There was the whoosh of an arrow as it grazed Yuuto’s cheek. 

But he did not falter. He pounded his chest with one fist, and gave a lion-hearted roar at the top of his lungs. 

“Everyone... trust in me!!” 

“Yeaaaaahhhhhh!!” the Wolf Clan soldiers screamed back in chorus. 

In their eyes, the light had been rekindled, and the flame of battle burned within their hearts once more. 

“Muahaha! Yes, attack! Attack, attack with everything you have!” Hveðrungr was in high spirits, and he laughed and called out to his men, urging them on. 

The legion of riders swept through the battlefield with incredible momentum like the force of surging waves, scattering soldiers from their formations, knocking them off their feet, and trampling them underfoot. 

As they killed the enemy, the Panther Clan fighters awakened their bestial nature, throwing themselves at the Wolf Clan soldiers with ever greater ferocity. They were propelled onward as if riding the crest of a great wave. 

By contrast, in the face of these intense assaults, the Wolf Clan forces seemed to lack even the strength to properly fight back or launch a counterattack. 

But then an unexpected cluster of Wolf Clan banners caught Hveðrungr’s eye. “Hm? That’s...” 

It was the banner that Hveðrungr had once aspired to make his own, in the days when he was the man known as Loptr. 

It was the banner that now signified the man he most wished to trample underfoot and kill with his own hands. 

“That’s the Wolf Clan’s main formation, the one housing the commander!” he shouted rapidly at his troops. “Everyone, target the main formation now! However, do not kill that brat commander of yours yourselves. To whoever captures him and brings him before me alive, I will grant them anything they desire as a reward!” 

“Yeahhhhh!!” Hveðrungr’s command sent a wave of excitement through his troops, and they shouted wildly as one. 

Hveðrungr was not a stingy man, by any means. 

Throughout his rule thus far, he had always rewarded his subordinates lavishly for their performance. To him, revenge against Yuuto was everything, and amassing wealth didn’t even come close in importance. 

So the members of the Panther Clan all knew that their patriarch was a man with a frightening temper, but also incredibly generous. If he said that he would grant them whatever they desired, it meant they could expect him to more than make good on his word. 

Abruptly awash with a new and greater motivation, the Panther Clan riders surged as one, like an avalanche, toward the Wolf Clan’s main formation. 

At last, Hveðrungr’s victory was in sight. 

He watched, licking his lips, waiting for his elite cavalry to force their way through the Wolf Clan formation and drag their the hateful, black-haired whelp of a commander back out. 

...He kept waiting. 

“You fools, what are you waiting for?!” Hveðrungr lashed out in frustration, for not a single report of success had come back to him. 

As far as he could make out visually, the protective lines of infantry surrounding the commander were bunched together closely, their spears out, desperately fighting and just barely managing to hold back the mass of armed riders pressing in on them. 

That was impressive, perhaps only to be expected of the spearmen charged with manning the main formation and protecting their patriarch. The patriarch must surely have focused his most elite soldiers in his formation. 

However, their efforts could only be temporary. 

With only that number of soldiers, they could never hope to hold out indefinitely against the Panther Clan’s ferocious assault. 

At least, that was the assumption Hveðrungr had made, but far from forcing their way through, his men were forced back, and his face twisted with rage. 

“How?! Why are they losing?!” he screamed. 

This was clearly strange. 

In terms of martial skill, the Panther Clan fighters were definitely superior. His forces had the overwhelming advantage in positioning, as well, being able to attack from the sides. 

In spite of that, this was the result. 

The Wolf Clan lines were moving slightly. In small amounts, but solidly and steadily, they were beginning to rally forwards. 

Hveðrungr was confused. “How is this? What is this bizarre strength of theirs?!” 

The air behind the Wolf Clan soldiers seemed to waver, like heat haze or a mirage. 

Even from a distance, he could see they wore faces of do-or-die determination. 

Their jaws set, their eyes squinting and fierce, they set upon the Panther Clan fighters in front of them with passion and frenzy, shouting to each other as they did. 

“It’s just as Lord Yuuto says! We haven’t lost yet!” 

“That’s right! As long as Lord Yuuto is here, the Wolf Clan will not lose!” 

“Protect Lord Yuuto at all costs! Lord Yuuto is the hope of the Wolf Clan!” 

“Hold your weapons steady! Don’t let the enemy get close to Lord Yuuto!” 

Just what could be driving them on to this extent? 

Hveðrungr was no clairvoyant god, and so he could not reach an answer to that question just from the scene in front of him. However, even if he did realize the answer, he would likely be loath to admit it. 

This miracle had been created by Yuuto’s ability and reputation as a leader. 

“The commander of the army stood on the front lines.” 

That was a simple way to describe the choice Yuuto had made, but simply that alone would not lead to such a dramatic effect. 

In more recent days, the Wolf Clan army had grown large, and more of its members were people not originally from the Wolf Clan homeland. But most of its soldiers were still people who had been born and raised within the Wolf Clan. 

And so, those soldiers remembered. 

They knew what it had been like before Yuuto became patriarch, the days of poverty and humiliation their clan had suffered. 

They knew how different things were now after he had taken over, in these new days of prosperity and glory. 

As long as Yuuto survived, even if they were to die in battle, their families, their wives and children would still know a better and more secure future. If, instead, they survived the battle and yet allowed Yuuto to die, their families would surely soon be cast adrift in a dangerous and uncertain world. 

That was what those soldiers all believed, purely and without a doubt. 

They were able to believe those things because, for nearly the past three years, Yuuto had built up accomplishments that gave them full reason to. 

As a member of the Wolf Clan, I must at least protect Patriarch Yuuto, no matter what. 

I must not allow the enemy get even one step closer to him. 

Those were the feelings that formed the iron resolve of Yuuto’s soldiers. Those feelings were leading to fight as if their backs were to a cliff, even though Yuuto himself had not put them in that position literally. 

Just as described in Sun Tzu’s writings, and just as had been exemplified by the incredible showing of the Lightning Clan forces earlier, the key was desperation. A situation where retreat was impossible had the potential to turn even an ordinary soldier into a mighty warrior. 

The Panther Clan was becoming overpowered by the incredible intensity and spirit the Wolf Clan now displayed. 

They faltered, and perhaps that was only natural. 

The Panther Clan, like the other nomadic clans that made their living surviving in the unforgiving northern wilds, had a much smaller overall population than the settled, city-dwelling nations. 

As such, a single person’s life had that much more value to the clan, and so they avoided fighting battles they weren’t certain to win. 

Their primary principle was not to eliminate their enemies, but to protect themselves from losses. The “Parthian shot,” where they retreated safely on horseback while firing arrows, was an example of the tactics born of their clan’s culture. 

They aimed to take the lives of their enemies, but did not intend to put their own lives on the line. 

This difference in essential resolve between the two forces now was what was overcoming the initial difference in skill and tactical advantage. 

The Wolf Clan soldiers now burned with an incredible fighting spirit and frenzy, unfearing of death. Faced with this, the Panther Clan soldiers shrank back, unable to bring themselves to attack again. 

That small opening was enough; in an instant, the wall of wagons was forming between them. 

Now, the Panther Clan would no longer be able to break through the line at all. 

“How?!” Hveðrungr wailed. “I’ve come this far, and I still cannot win against him?? Am I inferior to him as a commander?!” 

He had nothing left. All he could do now was order a retreat... 

It was at that moment that someone came racing across the battlefield at high speed, like a streak of lightning in human form. 

Using the momentum of his galloping horse, that man swung his iron warhammer and smashed one of the wagon carriages blocking his path to bits. 

His red hair flowing in the wind like fire, Steinþórr cried out with a voice that echoed like the howl of a wild beast. 

“Now then, how ’bout we pick up from where we left off?!”

Laughing joyfully, Steinþórr jabbed the long handle of his hammer outwards, and used a single sweeping strike to knock several attacking Wolf Clan soldiers all at once. 

“Ha ha ha, that was really something, Suoh-Yuuto! To think you’d bring things back from the brink like that!” 

Indeed, he was enjoying himself. 

He was so happy he could hardly stand it. 

This was the man who had not once, but twice managed to trick and get the better of him. 

Steinþórr had believed that Yuuto would somehow find a way to pull out of the desperate crisis the Panther Clan had put him in. That was why, in preparation for that moment, Steinþórr had made his soldiers reverse course and head back into the battle. 

Still, even though he’d trusted it would happen, witnessing the turnabout himself still set his heart racing with excitement. 

“I can’t believe someone like you really exists!” He licked his lips, the beast within showing itself on his face. 

Though he lived his life seeking battle with mad devotion, Steinþórr had grown tired of victory. 

Whenever he fought, he kept winning before he ever got the chance to unleash his full potential. 

He’d fought many times now with other Einherjar, other warriors with supernatural strength, but he’d still never been satisfied. 

And yet. 

Now there was an opponent he hadn’t beaten, even after fighting seriously. 

Here was someone who could endure his full strength. 

This was, unmistakably, someone greater than him. 

He wanted to fight and learn the depths of this man’s strength. 

It wasn’t that he just wanted to have an exciting battle, as before. He simply and purely longed to find out what this man was truly capable of. 

Attacking an enemy that was exhausted and weakened after multiple battles was something that went against Steinþórr’s principles. 

But this was different. He was the weaker party, and the idea of him holding back against an opponent greater than him would be even more outrageous. 

He need only fight to win, and put all of himself into the effort. 

With all other thoughts gone from his mind, Steinþórr continued to swing his hammer with incredible power all around him.

There was a human tornado on the battlefield. 

Everything and everyone in his radius of destruction was swept up, knocked down, blown away. Whether it be an elite soldier, or even a soldier who had found iron resolve to face death, all were equal before him. 

All who stood in his path faced an equally fatal end. 

“That guy’s not a genius of battle... he’s like a living calamity,” Yuuto groaned, with a face like he’d just swallowed a bug. 

He had somehow barely managed to hold off the Panther Clan’s fierce assault, and now this. Steinþórr was a troublemaker to the end. 

For starters, the young man had been fighting nonstop since the start of the battle. Just how did he have the stamina to do that? It seemed categorically inhuman. 

“But... you were a little late getting back here, weren’t you? Sorry, but I’ve no intention at all of fighting you head-on.” The corners of Yuuto’s mouth turned up slightly as he finally became certain of his victory. 

His ears had picked up on a faint sound coming from the west — in the direction of the mountain pass. It was the distant sound of soldiers cheering. 

The cheering grew ever louder and closer, and a brief moment later, it spread across the battlefield, too. 

“We’ve taken Gashina Fortress!” 

“We’ve won! The Wolf Clan has won!” 

“Reinforcements! The reinforcements have arrived!” 

At last the voices were close enough that Yuuto could clearly hear what they were saying. 

“They’ve finally made it!” he said, clenching his fist tightly. 

Of course, when Yuuto had ridden out with his main formation into the fray and put himself in danger, he had not done so aimlessly. 

Simple recklessness and courage look similar, but they are very different things. 

His act had been dangerous and a bit rash, but it had been a calculated risk backed up by the prospect of victory. He had known that if he could just hold things together for a little bit longer, his reliable reinforcements would come to his rescue. 

“Lure the tiger off its mountain lair.” It was the title of the fifteenth entry in Thirty-Six Stratagems, the classic Chinese essay on cunning and deception in war and politics. 

One example of this was the historically famous Battle of Jingxing, which had taken place in the mountains of China at a mountain pass near a large river. It was often said that Han Xin had been able to defeat an enemy force ten times the size of his own by making his men fight with their backs to the river, cutting off their escape. While this account was likely factual, one could say that it missed the point. 

To begin with, cutting off one’s own escape to fire up the spirits of one’s soldiers might sound convenient in theory, but the results would not last very long, and could easily lead to everyone being wiped out. It was a method that flew in the face of tactical common sense, and was normally something a commander should never do. 

Han Xin hadn’t won his battle just by using that tactic. Rather, the real heart of his strategy had been using it as bait. 

With such smaller numbers, and by using the common-sense-defying tactic of placing them in formation with the river at their back, he had tricked his enemy into taking him lightly, luring them into attacking him at his position. Meanwhile, a separate detached force was capturing the fortress the enemy had left behind in order to come wipe him out. With the enemy base captured and the second force arriving as reinforcements, Han Xin had been able to win. 

Yuuto had used that historical event as a reference, turning his main formation, and himself, as the bait this time. 

And so the “tiger,” Steinþórr, had brought his army through the narrow mountain pass and out of it to attack him, and in that opening, Yuuto had sent out a second, highly mobile force with the Múspell Unit at its core to detour around the mountains through another route, and capture the empty fortress on the other side. 

Of course, he would have never considered his bait might draw not only a wild tiger, but a cunning panther to him, as well. 

“Seriously, though, I never originally intended to actually mimic the do-or-die, desperately cornered fighting part...” Yuuto chuckled bitterly and shook his head. 

He’d taken so many careful measures to ensure a solid victory, and it had turned out this way instead. There really was no way to predict for sure what could happen in war. 

But however things had gone so far, his plan was now complete. 

Again, the secret to the Lightning Clan army’s incredible strength was not only Steinþórr’s strength as an individual, but the morale the troops carried because he was fighting on the front lines and destroying the enemies in front of him. 

Therefore, all that was needed was to rob them of that source of strength. 

It was only because soldiers believed they had a chance of victory that they were able to throw themselves bravely into combat with the enemies in front of them. 

One need only ask what would happen, then, if they were certain they had lost. 

Meanwhile, the Wolf Clan soldiers had obtained both the victory of Gashina Fortress’s capture and the arrival of highly capable reinforcements; they were overflowing with uplifted spirits. 

The Wolf Clan morale was now the highest it had been since the start of this campaign. 

Battles are won and lost by the morale of the soldiers. 

Now, the Wolf Clan’s comeback offensive could begin in earnest.

Sigrún shouted orders at the top of her lungs as she spurred on her own horse, plunging into the enemy ranks. 

“All troops advance! Full speed! Charge through them at full speed and take out as many as you can!” 

She quickly closed the distance with an enemy rider who crossed her path. And as he turned to look at her with an expression of shock, her speartip cut a horizontal line quick as a flash, separating the man’s head from his body. 

She followed up by bringing the spear back around with a returning strike, striking an adjacent rider right in the gut and knocking him from his horse. 

“These people... they’re in the Panther Clan.” Sigrún spared an instant to wonder why the Panther Clan would be here now. 

She didn’t have a clue. She didn’t have a clue, but right now that wasn’t important. 

There were enemies in front of her. And her role as the Wolf Clan’s Mánagarmr, the “Strongest Silver Wolf,” was simple: She must cut down as many of them as possible. 

Riding behind her was a regiment of talented cavalry numbering two thousand, headed by her direct subordinates, the elite special forces known as the Múspell Unit. 

They’d captured Gashina Fortress with enough energy to spare that they could quickly redeploy back through the mountain pass, and their morale was extremely high. 

And as for the battle at Gashina Fortress, the Lightning Clan had sent all of its troop strength off to attack Yuuto at the mountain pass entrance, so the fortress had been practically unguarded. They’d captured it with almost no casualties. The riders were mostly uninjured, and had plenty of stamina to left to fight with. 

Meanwhile, the Panther Clan riders had just come out of a grueling exchange with the main formation of the Wolf Clan, and they were flagging. 

The winner of this contest was already clear to see. 

Sigrún’s cavalry force moved like wildfire, surging across the battlefield and through the Panther Clan forces, scattering them and picking them off. 

“Hm?!” Sigrún’s attention was grabbed by one of the enemy riders, who was fighting through this chaotic and disadvantageous situation like a one-man army. 

His head was covered by a simple and unrefined helmet, and his eyes gleamed like a hawk’s. He controlled his horse as if it were an extension of his own body, striking down with his spear the Wolf Clan soldiers who attacked him one after the other. 

She recognized his face, too. During the war the previous year, he had been the head of the Panther Clan’s vanguard invasion force. 

According to Kristina’s research, the man’s name was Váli, one of the Panther Clan’s great generals, and supposedly none could best him when it came to mounted archery. 

“A worthy opponent! I hereby challenge you to battle!” Sigrún called out to Váli and readied her spear, leaning her body forward and urging her horse to run directly at him. 

As she entered attack range, she began with a downward, diagonal sweeping attack. 

“Silver hair?! Then you’re the Mánagarmr!” Váli shouted his reply even as he whirled his spear around and deflected her attack. 

It seemed that neither of them needed to introduce themselves to the other. 

“So I am! And now I shall take your life!” 

“Stupid girl! I won’t be losing it to the likes of you!” 

They began to exchange blows, their spears clashing. 

It was an exchange between two top warriors, the strongest in their respective clans. 

Five clashes... ten... their exchange of strikes and ripostes was so extremely rapid and violent that it created like unto a wall of slashing death around them, and no one could come close enough to interfere. 

But even within that heated battle, Sigrún grinned. “This is all you’ve got? The garmr was much faster. Haaaah!!” 

“Wh-whoa!” Sigrún’s attacks grew even faster, and in the blink of an eye Váli found himself put completely on the defensive. 

It was because of the intense battle Sigrún had fought with the giant wolf several months prior. 

Cornered and pushed to the verge of loss that meant certain death, more of the latent ability sleeping within her had been made to awaken and bloom. 

“Tch! Shit!” Váli immediately pulled back, turning his horse and racing away. The nomadic people of the Panther Clan did not fight losing battles. 

“I won’t let you escape!” Sigrún hurriedly kicked her own horse, urging it into a full run to chase Váli. 

If she could kill an enemy general, the morale of her allies would rocket skyward, and that of her enemies would fall as far. Coming this far only to let one of their top generals escape was out of the question. 

However, however stronger in combat than her opponent Sigrún might be, Váli was the better of them when it came to horses. He quickly put distance between them — or so it seemed at first. 

“Ha!” In what seemed like an instant, Váli spun around and readied his bow, firing arrows at her in quick succession. 

“Tch! Dammit!” Sigrún clicked her tongue in frustration, her eyes fixed on the group of arrows flying towards her. She realized now that she had been baited into chasing him, but it was already too late. 

As befitting the greatest mounted archer in the Panther Clan, Váli’s incredible skill with the bow was even better than the Horn Clan’s great archer Einherjar, Haugspori. 

And because Sigrún was urging her horse to chase after Váli at full speed, his arrows came at her with even greater relative velocity. 

The rain of arrows flew at her with terrifying speed, but just as they were about to reach her, something deep within her snapped. 

In that instant, the world around her lost its color and became shades of grey. 

Everything in the world slowed down to a crawl. The air felt as thick as water. 

Sigrún tilted her neck and moved her head slightly side to side, weaving through the arrows. 

One of the arrowheads grazed her cheek, leaving a thin crimson line across it, but she paid it no mind. With flowing movements, she used her spear and gauntlet to deflect some of them, dodged others by tilting her body, and kept racing straight ahead through the barrage. 

She did so without ever dropping her horse from full speed. This mental state, where her mind and senses attained a state of surpassing focus and swiftness, was another product of her fight to the death with the garmr. 

“Wha?!” Váli had been certain of his victory, and so his shock was all the greater. 

In contrast to Sigrún, he had dropped the speed of his horse a bit, in order to focus on firing his arrows. 

The distance between them closed in a flash. 

“Haaaah!!” Sigrún unleashed a spear thrust with the full momentum of her horse’s speed behind it. 

Everything about the attack was close to its perfect ideal form as in Sigrún’s training, from the application and release of muscular power to the trajectory of the speartip forward from its readied stance. It was an ultimate, killing blow, made possible by her access to her focused state of mental swiftness. 

Even Váli could not react in time to that attack, and it pierced his chest. He fell from his horse. 

“Guggh...!” 

“Ohhhhh!! Lady Sigrún has defeated the enemy general!” a soldier shouted. 

“That’s our Mánagarmr!” 

“Lady Sigrún and her Múspell Unit have come to aid us! With this, we can fight with a thousand — no, ten thousand times more strength!” 

“We can win this battle! We’re going to win!” 

Bearing witness to Sigrún’s heroic accomplishment, the Wolf Clan soldiers in Yuuto’s main formation abruptly regained their vigor, as well. 

It went without saying that the title of Mánagarmr was the greatest signifier of strength within the Wolf Clan. 

The current holder had a delicate, elf-like appearance at first glance, but in combat, Sigrún fought with the power and ferocity of an ogre. And with the fact that she had recently taken down a garmr alone in single combat, she had already attained a sort of god-like reputation within the clan, second only to Yuuto. 

And now, right after arriving on the battlefield, she had killed the Panther Clan general that had tricked and tormented the Wolf Clan for so long with only his small force of a few hundred. It was another incredible achievement. 

The Múspell Special Forces Unit she personally commanded was also exalted as a group of incredibly elite veteran fighters, cavalry that had accumulated a mountain of achievements in the many battles they had fought. 

To the Wolf Clan forces that had fought in this battle so far, there was no more powerful or reliable group to come to their aid. They were only two thousand in number, but psychologically, it was as if ten times that number had come to the rescue. 

“Come on, let’s follow their lead!” a Wolf Clan soldier shouted. 

“Rout the enemy!” 

The main Wolf Clan army rushed at the Panther Clan like waters from a burst dam. 

It was a pincer attack from the front and sides. 

The Panther Clan army was a legion of keenly skilled cavalry, but against the ferocious assault by a Wolf Clan army with their morale at its peak, they stood no chance. 

It seemed for a moment like they would be overrun... but before the Wolf Clan could press in any closer, the Panther Clan riders pulled back even faster, spun their horses around and began a swift and orderly retreat. 

“Ah! Not good. Stop, all of you! Stop! Don’t chase them carelessly! You’ll just become fodder for their arrows!” Sigrún hurriedly waved her arms, attempting to stop the pursuing troops. 

She had realized the enemy’s goal more quickly than anyone else thanks to how Váli had tricked her only moments ago. 

However, once a group of soldiers has gained momentum in their advance, it is no easy feat to make them stop. 

Seizing upon that, the Panther Clan fighters turned their bodies even as their horses fled, and unleashed their clan’s specialty, the Parthian shot. 

“Guagh!” 

“Gyaargh!” 

The soldiers who had first flung themselves toward the enemy and were in heated pursuit fell prey to those attacks. 

The other soldiers, seeing their allies shot down, grew only more riled up in anger. 

Thus far, they’d fended off the Panther Clan’s assault, Gashina Fortress had been captured, and now they’d gotten reinforcements from the Múspell Unit. With the morale and confidence from this, they couldn’t stop themselves from continuing to advance. 

“Damn you! I said to stop! Anyone who tries to pursue them further, I will cut down with my own two hands!” Sigrún spurred her horse and ran ahead of the charging Wolf Clan troops, screaming at them. 

She also used the butt of her spear to strike the soldier closest to her... without holding back any of her strength. 

With that, the Wolf Clan troops that had forgotten themselves temporarily finally came to their senses and stopped. Certainly, none of them was about to try and force their way past the Mánagarmr. 

“Good work, ma’am.” The vice captain of the Múspell Unit, Bömburr, rode up to her and gave a wry grin. “Still, you were a bit extreme, yes?” 

Sigrún had just now rushed into the space where the enemy arrows were flying, and even risked running over some of her allies. 

“It’s because Father warned us not to risk ourselves chasing after the Panther Clan riders,” Sigrún told him. 

“So he did. They really are a troublesome enemy, aren’t they? We cannot even attack them as they retreat...” Bömburr trailed off. 

The majority of an army’s kills and captures in a battle were made in follow-up attacks to an enemy in retreat. 

If they did not launch pursuit attacks against the enemy forces, then they could not deal decisively fatal damage to them. 

However, as just demonstrated, if they did try to attack the Panther Clan riders in retreat, they would meet with a painfully effective counterattack. 

“Damn, they really are annoying.” Sigrún gave a heavy sigh. 

She was also forced to admit that the enemy commander’s judgment in this case had been spot on. 

Upon realizing that her side had high morale and was eager to fight, they had immediately switched tactics to utilize that to their advantage. The Panther Clan had minimized their own side’s casualties, and delivered more to the Wolf Clan. 

If Sigrún hadn’t stopped her allies, their heightened will to fight would have been spent in vain and at great cost. 

Yuuto would have likely realized this just as quickly and ordered them to stop, but with the delay in relaying commands, more casualties would have been unavoidable. 

They really were up against the worst, most vexing kind of enemy.

“Heh heh heh, ha ha ha ha! Ahh, you got me again!” Laughing with delight, Steinþórr tilted his head back and slapped a palm to his forehead. 

A nearby Wolf Clan soldier didn’t miss that opening and attacked, but Steinþórr grabbed the man’s spear with the other hand and spun both of them around a bit before throwing them aimlessly aside. 

“Geez, it’s just one trick after another with you. I don’t even know how you come up with all of this stuff. You’re a magician or something, seriously!” 

Judging by the nature of the cheers and other noises echoing around him on the battlefield, he could grasp the overall progress of the battle to an extent. 

The Lightning Clan’s total troop strength was lower than that of the Wolf Clan’s, by a good amount. That was why he’d focused as much of his army strength on attacking as he could, but it seemed that had backfired. He could only sit and marvel at the planning abilities of the Wolf Clan patriarch, for seeing all of this ahead of time and accounting for it. 

Just like back during the Battle of Élivágar River, and earlier in today’s battle with the formation that surrounded him, he’d constantly been kept dancing in the palm of his opponent’s hand. 

Steinþórr’s attacks and assaults kept being nimbly evaded, and each time, before he knew it, he was trapped in a disadvantageous situation. 

It was just like the stories people told of people being completely taken in by the magic of inhuman tricksters like witches and fairies. 

But for Steinþórr, that felt wonderful. There was another man out there who was clearly stronger than him. Nothing could make his heart dance with delight more than that! 

“Tch, it’s a damn shame, but I guess I’ve gotta pull out for now.” Clicking his tongue in frustration, Steinþórr shook his head and shrugged. 

The Lightning Clan troops were already at their limit in terms of both morale and stamina. 

They’d been fighting nonstop since the morning, and then they had been plunged into a truly desperate situation when the enemy formation trapped them from both sides. 

They’d already expended all of their energy in the life-or-death struggle to push their way out of that trap. 

He’d given them a short break before reversing course and running them back onto the battlefield, but that wasn’t enough to heal their fatigue. Of course, their injuries hadn’t healed, either. 

He’d only managed to spur them into action one last time with the promise of the treat called victory. And the situation now was what they’d gotten instead. 

They’d tried to push themselves forward with sheer momentum, but just as quickly, the wind had dropped out of their sails. 

That was just how hard it had broken their spirits, hearing that Gashina Fortress had been captured from them. It meant their main supply route and route back home was cut off, and that was a big deal. 

This meant that, just as they were at their most physically and mentally drained, the enemy had robbed them of one of the sources of their morale. 

The tension of battle that had been holding them together snapped like a wire, and now even Steinþórr himself wouldn’t be able to rouse them any further. 

Battles in war were not fought between individuals. 

Steinþórr was a peerless warrior who could fight a hundred enemies on his own, but without an army of soldiers fighting alongside him, there wasn’t much even he could do to win. 

“All right, guys, we’re falling back for now!” Steinþórr called. “I’ll take care of bringing up the rear!” 

“...!!” A shudder ran through the Lightning Clan troops, and several of them gasped at once. 

The commander-in-chief was the one person above all others who needed to escape to safety first, and for him to serve as the leader of the rearguard was unprecedented. 

“You cannot be serious, Father?!” one of his subordinates shouted. 

“He’s right, Father!” cried another. “We will hold off the enemy for you, so please escape first!” 

Naturally, as his direct subordinates, they could plead with him directly. However, their patriarch was a headstrong young man, and once he set his mind on something, he wasn’t changing it for anybody. 

Steinþórr laughed and waved his hand dismissively at them. “You think I’d be the first one to run away from a fight? Well, who cares about the details, anyway? Just relax and don’t worry. I’m not gonna be dying here. After all, I’ve gotta survive so I can go at it with that guy one more time.”

After confirming that both the Panther and Lightning Clans were withdrawing their armies, Yuuto sank down into his chariot’s carriage. 

“Whew... we managed to pull through it somehow.” 

Without his realizing it, the sun was already sinking in the west, and the eastern sky was darker blue, with the disc of the full moon rising. 

“My body feels even heavier than when I got hit by that Læðingr spell...” he moaned. It was likely from the constant battlefield tension he’d endured since morning. His body was likely past the limit of what it could normally handle, fatigue-wise. 

He’d tried to launch an attack at the two fleeing armies, but both of them had shown remarkable judgment and timing in their retreat, and so had suffered few casualties. 

In fact, according to reports from scouts in the area, they’d moved to an area two hours’ march south and were resting while watching for potential openings in his guard. 

It had been tough, but this battle could be judged as the Wolf Clan’s win. But it looked like the real showdown might have just been postponed to a few days later. 

“Still, I can’t believe the Lightning and Panther Clans had joined forces,” he groaned. “That was really awful.” 

“Hee hee, but even so, you brilliantly fought them off. Impressive as always, Big Brother. Here you are.” Felicia handed Yuuto a cup of tea. 

“Oh, thanks.” Yuuto took a sip and exhaled a long breath. “Ahh, that really hits the spot.” 

His throat had been parched from nerves, and the tea was incredibly delicious. 

“We truly are secure as long as you are here with us, Big Brother,” Felicia assured him. 

“Hey, come on, now, you know one day I have to go ho—” 

“The time has come for the darkness to replace the light of the sun.” 

Suddenly, a voice Yuuto recognized echoed in his head, and as if in response to the words she recited, he felt his heart thump pound louder. 

Ba-thump. 

In his mind’s eye, he could see the beautiful, brown-skinned figure of the same girl as before. Last time it had been slightly indistinct, but now the vision of her and sound of her voice were both clear as crystal. 

“Let the chains of the holy covenant be now loosened, that the imprisoned hungry wolf may be set free.” 

“You again?!” Yuuto cried out. 

“B-Big Brother?! What’s wrong?!” Alarmed by Yuuto’s outburst, Felicia turned toward him. 

Naturally, Felicia couldn’t see or hear the other woman. However, she was able to sense something. 

“Wh-what is...” Felicia began. “Is this magic?!” 

“It’s Sigyn! Sigyn’s activating her seiðr again!” Yuuto exclaimed. 

“Ah! You mean the seiðr user who married my brother?!” 

“Yeah!” Nodding, Yuuto focused his mind’s eye on Sigyn’s dancing figure. 

As before, she was dressed in a provocative and sensual outfit, and bore a figure to match. But right now he wasn’t in any sort of mood to entertain any lascivious thoughts. 

Instead, it was an unexplainable anxiety that gripped him. As the seconds ticked by, the Sigyn in his mind finished her spell. 

“Fimbulvetr!!” 

With that final word of power spoken, Yuuto could feel something, like some invisible force that had been binding him was torn away. 

Not that it weakened, or thinned — it broke and scattered, disappearing entirely. 

He was certain he could feel that. 

“Big Brother?! Y-your body is...!” Felicia cried out as Yuuto’s body became translucent again. 

This time, it didn’t end there. 

In a sudden jerk, Yuuto felt a sensation like floating, as if the ground beneath him had suddenly disappeared, and the world around him seemed to fade. “Whoa!” 

He recognized that feeling. 

It was exactly what he’d felt on the night he’d first come to Yggdrasil — the sensation of crossing between worlds. 

“B-Big Brother!” Felicia’s shouts seemed to come from far away. 

Not only that, but her appearance in his vision was growing blurry and wavy. 

It seemed he wouldn’t even have time to leave her with any parting words. 

“H-here! Take this...!” Reflexively Yuuto reached into his pocket and tossed something at Felicia. 

It was all over in the next instant. Felicia and the world were erased from his sight, leaving only black, and then the world came back again. 

And the next thing he saw.... 

“What?! Y-Yuu-kun?!” 

...was the face of his childhood friend, the girl he had spent three long years waiting to see again.