ACT 4
“You’re going to establish a new clan?” Linnea repeated the words back to Yuuto with a puzzled look on her face.
She was in a room in the palace of Iárnviðr together with a group that could be called Yuuto’s trusted inner circle: Jörgen, Skáviðr, Felicia, Sigrún, Ingrid, Albertina, and Kristina.
After being called here from the Horn Clan, she’d only been able to exchange a quick greeting with Yuuto before being led to this room. Linnea had been hoping to have more of a heartfelt reunion with him, so personally she was feeling a bit let down.
Still, he was right here, speaking to her in person.
That in itself was enough to make Linnea unbelievably happy.
Except for Felicia, everyone else in the room was also openly surprised at Yuuto’s statement. Apparently, it was their first time hearing about this, too.
Yuuto nodded from his position on a raised seat at the head of the table. “Yeah, I figure we’ll need to do something like that if we want to forge a stronger sense of unity between the Wolf Clan and its subsidiary allies.”
He went on:
“If we stay as we are, with just the Wolf Clan, there’s no getting rid of the feeling that we’re all separate. To each clan, they’re just going along with us because they have no choice; in the end, they’re still the Claw Clan, the Ash Clan, and so on. And just like what happened this time around, when things go south, they’ll put their own individual clans first. I can’t have that happening all the time.”
“That is true.” Jörgen nodded heavily at Yuuto’s point.
Indeed, the one who had felt the pain of that situation most keenly within the Wolf Clan was, without a shadow of a doubt, Jörgen, the second-in-command who had borne all of Yuuto’s responsibilities in his absence.
If there had been support and reinforcements from the other clans, the military situation would have been at least a little bit more favorable.
His words were simple words, but they carried the weight of the feelings from that experience.
“And that’s exactly why, by taking this group of clans, what you might now call the Wolf Clan Alliance, and reforming it under a new name, we can give it a greater sense of unity. That’s my thinking.”
“I see,” Linnea said. She put a hand to her mouth and frowned. “Still, isn’t that simply changing the name and nothing more? Even if the Wolf Clan names itself something else, I’m doubtful of whether that will engender any sense of loyalty or community from the others.”
From Linnea’s personal perspective, she felt an incredible debt to the Wolf Clan, and was ready and willing to take orders from them. But if asked what her true clan was, she would have to answer that it was the Horn Clan. There would be no changing that feeling just because the Wolf Clan changed to some less-familiar name.
The Wolf Clan had been in sharp decline in the period before Yuuto came to power, but in the past, the Wolf Clan had once been a mighty nation which ruled all of the Bifröst region.
Thinking of it that way, one could say that a name change could only weaken the respect and fear inspired by the original name.
“Ah, no, no,” Yuuto said. “I’m not going to change the name of the Wolf Clan. I’m only going to create a new clan.”
“Right...” Linnea didn’t fully grasp the point, and gave only a vague response.
The act of “establishing a new clan” ordinarily meant creating a smaller branch clan that was subsidiary to the main clan. That didn’t seem like it bore any connection to a plan to make the Wolf Clan and its current allies more unified.
Before Linnea could figure out the answer, Yuuto continued speaking.
“And, that brings me to you, Linnea. I want to ask you to be the second-in-command of that new clan.”
“Eh? Huuuuuh?!” Linnea couldn’t help but let out a startled cry. “N-no, but, in my role as patriarch of the Horn Clan, I...”
She had heartfelt respect and admiration for Yuuto, and she was also very happy that he’d made the offer, but of course she couldn’t choose a path that would mean abandoning her own clan.
Yuuto dismissed her remark with a wave of his hand and a wry chuckle.
“No, you don’t have to stop what you’re doing. It’s fine if you stay on as patriarch of the Horn Clan too. Oh, right, Jörgen, I want you to be the clan’s assistant-second, by the way. Ah, and I’ll have you take over as patriarch of the Wolf Clan, too.”
“What?! What did you saaaay?!” Jörgen’s surprise led him to burst out shouting. His jaw looked like it was about to fall off; he was staring at Yuuto as if the whole world had suddenly gone topsy-turvy.
That reaction could hardly be helped, however. The Wolf Clan was nothing without Yuuto right now. The most recent crisis had only served to prove that.
There was no way that his abdicating the throne could possibly be a good idea.
Jörgen and Sigrún stood up from their seats and shouted so wildly that spittle flew, pleading to convince Yuuto.
“F-Father! It is still too soon for you to retire!” Jörgen cried desperately. “You have not even reached twenty yet!”
“Y-yes, that’s right, Father! You must keep leading the Wolf Clan for another thirty years!” Sigrún shouted.
Nearby, Felicia let slip a smile and a few giggles — she seemed to find this amusing.
Felicia was Yuuto’s closest and most loyal advisor. The woman who should logically be pleading with him to reconsider wasn’t speaking up.
With that, Linnea put it together.
“In other words,” she put in, “you’re not planning to create a branch clan beneath the Wolf Clan, but a main clan above it? And you, Big Brother, will be the patriarch of that new clan, I take it.”
“Correct.” The corners of Yuuto’s mouth curled up in a grin.
Kris spoke up next. “Then, should I assume that its officers in top positions will be patriarchs from our subsidiary clans?”
“Excellent, Kris,” Yuuto said, slapping his leg. “As expected, you catch on quickly.”
The two of them were both exemplary thinkers to be able to grasp his intentions in that short amount of time.
“I see... so that is what’s going on.” A look of understanding spread across Skáviðr’s face.
Meanwhile, in contrast to the three of them, Jörgen’s brow still remained furrowed with suspicion. “So, what does this mean, exactly?”
Jörgen was of course not a talentless man, far from it; however, likely due to his age, he was a bit narrow in his thinking, and had difficulty following a discussion about completely new concepts.
Kris raised a finger and explained. “What it means is that, rather than award the number two position in the new clan to a high-valued member of the old Wolf Clan like you, Jörgen, Linnea will be put there instead. The aim is to fill the majority of the top positions with people from the subsidiary clans. That means that the Wolf Clan itself won’t be able to be as controlling towards the other branch clans as it has been up until now.”
“That doesn’t exactly sound good to my ears,” Jörgen replied.
“But that would increase their feeling of belonging to the new clan,” Kristina replied. “By setting Lady Linnea up as the second-in-command, members of other clans will likely think, ‘Lord Suoh-Yuuto doesn’t just put the Wolf Clan first; he also grants his favor to people from other clans in accordance to their merits.’ In order to gain status and power for themselves in the new clan, they will instinctively act with much more loyalty towards us.”
“Hmm.” Jörgen pondered. “I see. This whole issue is finally starting to make sense to me.” Still frowning, Jörgen turned his gaze to Yuuto. “Still, won’t that mean that members of the Wolf Clan will have difficulty accepting this?”
Taken as a whole, it did seem like this plan would lead to a greater feeling of both competition and unity within the new clan. But bold, revolutionary policies of this sort were sure to garner resentment from those who already had a monopoly on status and power with the status quo.
In other words, the people of the Wolf Clan had been able to feel like they were superior to people from the other clans, and so they wouldn’t like a change away from that. There would likely be many who protested, asking why people from other clans were being treated better than themselves.
Yuuto nodded. “Yeah, well, I was hoping to balance things out some by naming many of my direct child subordinates from among members of the Wolf Clan. For starters, that includes all of you here now.”
“I see. That is why you called them here as well,” Jörgen said, glancing over to one side of the room.
Sigrún, Ingrid, and Albertina, noticing that Jörgen was looking at them, stared back with wide-eyed puzzlement.
The three of them were completely oblivious when it came to politics. They’d been listening quietly through the conversation, but it was nothing but gibberish to them.
“Yeah, thankfully my kids in this clan have lots of accomplishments to their names already.” Yuuto gave a mischievous grin. “I’m pretty sure it won’t come off like I’m being too partial.”
Jörgen responded with a deep breath, followed by a sigh of resignation. “I understand, Father. I think that there will still be dissatisfaction in the Wolf Clan, but I will do what I can to keep it under control.”
“Ha ha! Sorry that I always give you the toughest work. But I knew you’d say yes. Actually, it’s because of you that I figured I could propose enacting this plan in the first place.”
“My, my,” Jörgen said with a sigh, “it seems that experience has only made you better at flattering people into serving your ends, Father.”
“Hey, now, it’s how I really feel.” Yuuto shrugged and gave a wry smile.
It might be hard to tell because of Jörgen’s fearsome-looking face and build, but he was actually a man quite attentive to detail and considerate to the needs of others.
The reason Yuuto had been able to put so many revolutionary new reforms in place in the Wolf Clan was because Jörgen was always acting behind the scenes, smoothing things out with the parties involved and ensuring their buy-in.
Yuuto fully believed that this man would be able to make things work out as they set out on the new, unsteady course in front of them.
“Well then, Father, what do you plan to call your new clan?” Jörgen asked, seeming to realize only now that they’d gotten this far without hearing the name.
Yuuto’s mouth curled into a grin.
He’d only ever had one potential name in mind. There was no more fitting name he could give to his clan.
With an affected, stately air, he spoke the name aloud.
“The Steel Clan.”
As soon as the meeting ended, Yuuto called out to one of the twins as she made to leave.
“Kristina, just a second.”
The side ponytail on the left side of her head spun a circle in the air as she twirled around to face him. Even that simple motion carried an air of elegance to it. That was likely because she’d received extensive training as the daughter by birth of the Claw Clan patriarch.
Yuuto decided not to think about the other twin.
“What is it, Father?” Kristina asked. “Oh, if it’s about the intelligence reports from the time you were absent, I’ve compiled them and left them on your desk.”
“I’ll give those a look later, then. What I was in a hurry to talk to you about is the Vindálfs. How is our merry band coming along?”
“Ahh, them.” Kristina raised her eyebrows and flashed Yuuto an impish grin. “For now, I would say around ten of them are at the point where they can put on a satisfying performance in front of a crowd.”
“Hmm, ten...”
“It has only been half a year since we established them, after all. Most of them still aren’t trained enough to use yet.”
“Well, ten should actually be enough for my purposes. I’d like to put them to work.”
“Are you going to have them perform some dances at your army’s departure ceremony?”
The Vindálfs’ name meant “the Band of Wind Elves” in the language of Yggdrasil. They were a troupe of trained performers, an organization Yuuto had ordered Kristina to create around the same time that he’d established the school facilities known as the “House of Tablets.”
The troupe was mainly comprised of widows, war orphans, and the like. Currently the focus was on teaching them various performance skills, and eventually the plan was to have them perform at the great circular amphitheater currently under construction in one section of the city.
It was a policy that would help a group of people in severe poverty, while also providing a new source of entertainment for the citizens; two birds with one stone.
Of course, that was the public reason for their existence.
“No, not that,” Yuuto said. “I want to request the other kind of work.”
“Oh, really?” A dangerous light sparkled in Kristina’s eyes. “Where shall I send them?”
The true purpose of the Vindálfs was to send them into other countries, to secretly gather information.
He had gotten the idea from a legend from Japan’s own history. It was said that, during the Sengoku Period, the famous lord and general Takeda Shingen ordered the creation of a secret band of female spies known as the aruki miko, or “wandering shrine maidens.” Yuuto had implemented a Yggdrasil-style spin on that old tale.
Kristina’s talents needed no mentioning, of course, and her direct underlings were all quite exceptional spies as well, but her group was pulled from a small faction of the Claw Clan, which was a small clan to begin with. In terms of numbers, there just weren’t enough of them to travel through and investigate all of the Wolf Clan’s neighboring countries.
The old maxim was ever true: He who controls information, controls conflict.
The performance troupe could be used as a front to greatly expand Yuuto’s intelligence-gathering network. He’d been working on this plan for quite some time now.
“To the imperial capital, Glaðsheimr,” Yuuto said. “I want them to investigate Rífa as soon as possible. It’s extremely urgent.”
Just the previous night, Mitsuki had told him about how, ever since the summoning ritual that brought Yuuto back, she had lost all contact with Rífa.
Mitsuki seemed to be seriously worried that something bad might have happened to her.
In addition to Mitsuki’s worries, Yuuto owed Rífa a great personal debt for bringing him back to Yggdrasil. He couldn’t ignore this.
“Of course, this is important enough that I’d much rather send you in there yourself, if I could,” Yuuto added.
However, with the start of the big campaign against the Panther Clan fast approaching, he couldn’t afford to send Kristina away.
There would be tens of thousands of lives on the line in the battles to come. He had to put that first.
“I am very sorry to betray your expectations of me, Father, but even I would rather not attempt to sneak into Valaskjálf Palace.” Kristina made this statement very flatly, and it left Yuuto blinking in surprise.
“I never would have expected a ball of pure curiosity like yourself to say something like that,” he said.
The girl had a strong sense of pride in herself as an expert in intelligence gathering.
Her giving up on a challenge without even trying was so out of character, Yuuto wondered if he should expect a summer snowstorm tomorrow.
Kristina picked up on his incredulity, and drooped her shoulders as she explained.
“The imperial high priest Hárbarth lives in the capital, and he is so well known for his keen eye that it’s earned him the alias Skilfingr, the Watcher from on High. Once in the past, I only barely escaped from him with my life.” Kristina muttered the last part with quite the look of displeasure on her face; it seemed this was a memory she didn’t want to recall.
“Wow...” Yuuto murmured with awe.
Kristina was the Einherjar of Veðrfölnir, Silencer of Winds, and there was no one better than her at concealing her presence. If she applied her full power to escaping unnoticed, then tracking her was impossible even for the Wolf Clan’s former and current Mánagarmr, experts at sensing a person’s presence.
This high priest had to be a real dangerous one if he had been able to get someone like Kristina on the ropes.
Yuuto heaved a large sigh. “Haaah, this world is just full of overpowered monsters!”
“And I am certain you are among their number, perhaps in the top three,” Kristina replied, with a look of exasperation.
The remark stung Yuuto a little, as he felt it was undeserved, but if he argued about that now, they’d surely get sidetracked.
“Well if that place is so dangerous, maybe sending the Vindálfs might be a bad idea.”
The members in question had become skilled enough to deploy in less than half a year, so they were surely very talented, but they also definitely weren’t anywhere close to as good as the little fox in front of him.
If Kristina had only barely gotten away from that place with her life, he would practically be sending the others to their deaths.
“On the contrary, I think this might be just the sort of job the Band is geared toward. If the target is difficult to infiltrate, one need only enter properly through the front doors.”
Yuuto got her meaning, and snapped his fingers. “Aha! I see what you mean.”
He’d had the Vindálfs trained to perform songs, dances, and magic tricks from modern-era Japan. They were all things one couldn’t find anywhere else, and were bound to pull in attention and curiosity.
Yuuto was plenty sure he could expect some imperial official to grow fond of them and officially invite them into the palace as guests.
“All right then, I’m counting on you to make it happen.”
“Understood. It will be done.” With a small bow, Kristina left the room.
After watching her leave, Yuuto stood alone, his fists clenching and unclenching.
“Please, please be safe, Rífa...”
What awaited Yuuto afterwards was nothing but a steady stream of deskwork.
Ordinarily, his second-in-command Jörgen took care of his patriarch work during times he needed to be absent, but of course there were some decisions that only the actual patriarch was fit to make, or procedures that the patriarch at least needed to check over personally, and other paperwork of that sort.
Since he’d been absent for two months, that had built up into an unthinkably huge volume of work.
He’d have Felicia read him document after document aloud, after which he’d apply his stamp and get her to read the next one, apply his stamp, and so on. If there were any spots that seemed unclear or questionable, he would send for the person responsible so he could discuss the matter with them before making his decision.
This continued, day after day.
Once that backlog had finally been dealt with, he still had his daily deskwork, with the addition of the planning and organizing work for the creation of the Steel Clan. There was just no end of work that had to be done.
As the work drove Yuuto through his days, he began to lose his proper sense of time... until one day, a visitor arrived.
Guests and visitors arrived to see Patriarch Yuuto every day, of course.
However, when this visitor arrived, Yuuto jumped up from his chair so quickly he nearly knocked it over.
“Olof?!” Yuuto shouted.
Indeed, his visitor looked remarkably like Olof, Yuuto’s once-great general and governor, who had died honorably in battle at Gashina.
However, though the resemblance was there, this was a completely different person.
For starters, his age was clearly different. Olof had been a middle-aged man who appeared to be in his early forties at first glance. (In truth, he had only been in his thirties. It was one indication of how hard the man had worked himself.) But the man in front of Yuuto now was probably only around twenty or so.
However, he could still see Olof’s features strongly in this man’s face.
The young man introduced himself, standing rod-straight at attention. “My lord, I am Olof’s son by birth, Sviðurr.”
His voice was strongly reminiscent of Olof’s, too. It seemed the family traits ran strong between father and son.
“I see... Olof’s boy.” Yuuto felt the corners of his eyes growing hot.
“Yes, Lord Patriarch. I have just been selected as the captain of the Olof Family, so I came to introduce myself to you, as is proper.”
“Really now,” Yuuto said, reacting with interest. He almost said, “Pretty impressive for one so young,” but swallowed the words rather than say them aloud. He himself was even younger, after all.
Still, it really was an impressive achievement.
The Olof Family was one of the factions of the Wolf Clan, and in terms of sheer numbers, it was second only to the Jörgen Family. Of course, with so many men, there would necessarily be plenty of promising talent in its ranks. So for a young man of only twenty or so to be selected as its captain spoke a great deal about his skill and potential.
Perhaps his father’s great talent had also been passed down to him.
“I see.” Yuuto nodded. “I hope you give your all, then.”
“Yes, sir! I’ll work myself down to the bone, and pick up the burden my father left behind.”
“Right. I’ll look forward to that.” Yuuto paused for a moment. “...Hey, Sviðurr.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Your father — he acted without fear for himself, and in doing so, protected the lives of so many of our fellow Wolf Clan. He was a true hero. But even before that... he wasn’t the type who shone in flashy combat on the battlefield, but he always stepped up to do the difficult work that other men would have refused or neglected. To me, he was always a powerful man, and one rarely found in this world.”
Yuuto’s words weren’t meant to praise Olof for the sake of his son. They were truly what Yuuto felt about him.
That fact must have reached Sviðurr, for the young man’s face twisted as he struggled to suppress the urge to cry.
The young man angled his head up to hide his eyes, and he shouted, “Sir! I believe my father must surely be rejoicing at his seat in Valhalla, on hearing those words from his patriarch!”
“I see,” Yuuto said softly.
In fact, Yuuto had resolved himself to receive condemnation from Olof’s surviving son. He could have blamed Yuuto, saying that if only he hadn’t vanished in the middle of an important battle, Olof might still be alive.
Instead, Yuuto felt like with this, he’d gained a little peace of mind.
He placed a hand on Sviðurr’s shoulder. “Become as great a man as your father was. I’ve got high expectations for you.”
“Yes, sir!” Sviðurr’s response was immediate, his voice clear.
Olof had been a very reserved, composed sort of man, but it seemed like his son was full of youthful passion and vigor.
Perhaps Olof had simply become the man Yuuto knew after years of experience had mellowed him out, and he had been this sort of fiery man in his youth.
In that case, there was a lot to look forward to in this young man’s future.
“Haaaah... Hah!!” With a spirited cry, Yuuto delivered a rapid strike with his blade.
The wooden sword in his hands flew in a downward arc, his full strength behind the blow.
His opponent was a slender, ominous-looking man, with thin cheeks and a piercing light in his eyes.
If an ignorant outsider were to come across this scene, they might perhaps misunderstand it as the Wolf Clan patriarch defending himself against a sinister assassin.
Of course, the man was no assassin, but a proud member of the Wolf Clan, the assistant second-in-command, in fact.
He was also the previous holder of the title belonging to the strongest of the Wolf Clan: Mánagarmr.
At present, he was charged with being the governor of the city and region of Gimlé, but today he was in Iárnviðr on business, so Yuuto had asked him to accompany him in sword practice.
With a quick little step, Skáviðr brought his leg back and rotated his body sideways, cleanly dodging Yuuto’s downward strike.
“Hup! ...Ah!” Yuuto had begun to follow through with a sweeping horizontal strike, but suddenly brought his movement to a complete halt.
The blade of Skáviðr’s wooden sword was up against his neck.
“Haah...” Yuuto sighed. “So that’s ten complete losses in a row. Man, Skáviðr, you really are strong.” He gave a short, dry laugh and dropped to sit on the ground.
Lately Yuuto had been completely absorbed in nothing but deskwork, but he was the type who liked to do physical activities like this. Sitting at a desk all the time was suffocating for him.
Getting fully active like this, and working up a real sweat now and then, felt refreshing.
“You have also improved greatly, Master,” Skáviðr said. “As you are now, I think you would stand little chance of losing to an average soldier. In particular, that last strike of yours was very good.”
“Ah, really? Well, if you say so, then I’ll believe it. Everyone else always avoids fighting me seriously.” Yuuto chuckled again, slumping his shoulders.
Because of his position as the patriarch, whenever it came to combat training, others held back against him.
His most trusted confidant was the most prominent example. “Even if it’s only a wooden sword, I could never bear a weapon against you, Big Brother!” Felicia would shout.
Fighters like Sigrún and Jörgen were much the same, though. They considered how Yuuto would get frustrated if he lost, and though they didn’t outright stand there and hand the match to him, they also didn’t make a serious effort to attack him.
Thanks to that, Yuuto couldn’t figure out where his current levels of strength and skill were at.
That’s why he’d singled out this man to help him. Skáviðr was known for showing no mercy, and for not mincing words, good or bad.
“But I still have a long way to go, I guess,” Yuuto continued. “At the end there, I couldn’t even see your attack coming.”
Skáviðr’s sword had been against his neck before he’d even realized it.
That was despite the fact that he’d been completely focused on Skáviðr’s every movement, so as not to miss anything.
“Yes, well, in this case, it can’t be helped. In fact, I would say the fact that you couldn’t see the attack coming is proof that you’ve grown.”
“Huh?” Yuuto said.
“Rather than explaining it with words, it would be better to demonstrate it for you. Aunt Felicia, if you would.”
“Ah, y-yes!” Felicia was surprised to be called upon so suddenly, and responded with a shrill voice.
“Face me in a few matches,” Skáviðr said. “This should be a good learning experience for you, too.”
With such a request, directly from the former Mánagarmr, Felicia could hardly say no.
She took up her own wooden practice sword and faced off against Skáviðr.
The results of their matches were stark: In all five, Skáviðr secured victory smoothly. Not only that, it was without even allowing her to trade multiple blows with him. Every match was settled in the first strike.
“Ohh... ohh...” Felicia was on her hands and knees, hanging her head in misery. “This is utterly shameful... I am supposed to be Big Brother’s protector...”
Expressionless, Skáviðr rested his wooden sword against his shoulder and spoke down to her. “That’s true. Your body has grown weaker since the last time I saw you fight. Helping Master with his work is certainly important, but so is your mission to guard him physically. Don’t neglect your routine training.”
“Y-yes, I will do my best to improve...” Felicia responded with a tight, frustrated tone to her voice, her fists clenched.
It seemed that her devastating losses to him had stained her pride as Yuuto’s bodyguard.
Skáviðr nodded once, then turned his gaze back to Yuuto. “Master, as you saw, even Aunt Felicia could barely see any of the attacks, so there is no need to feel too upset about it.”
To Yuuto, it looked like in exchange for making him feel better, this had made Felicia feel terribly upset instead, but he decided not to press that issue further.
There was no point in arguing about what had already taken place.
“Still, just what kind of trick did you use to pull that off?” Yuuto asked.
Skáviðr’s attacks were definitely fast, but Yuuto was still able to follow them with his eyes while watching the fights. They weren’t too fast to see. In terms of pure speed, Sigrún’s attacks were even faster.
And Felicia was an Einherjar, far from a weak fighter. In fact, she was the fifth strongest fighter in the Wolf Clan at present.
So it was hard to imagine that not even she could react at all to the speed of Skáviðr’s attacks.
After all, Felicia could even last through five or ten exchanges of blows with Sigrún in a sparring match. And yet still, right there in front of his eyes, her responses to Skáviðr’s attacks had all been late.
Rather than his strikes being too fast, it was more like Felicia’s ability to fight him had been disrupted.
It was just like a magic trick.
However, Skáviðr shook his head. “It isn’t a trick. There is no secret, no deception at play.”
“How can you say that there’s no trick at all?!” Felicia protested, standing back up.
She’d experienced such utter defeat during their matches, she likely couldn’t accept the fact that there was no hidden trick to explain it.
“I can say there isn’t because there isn’t. In fact, it’s because there’s no gimmick that you can’t perceive the attacks.”
“What?” Felicia tilted her head to one side, as if she’d just heard a riddle.
“Honestly, Aunt Felicia,” Skáviðr said. “You have a great deal of talent, but because of that, you tend to neglect your fundamentals. ‘Practice complete obedience to the Way, break from it, leave it behind, but forget not its origin.’”
“Ah,” Yuuto spoke up, recognizing the quote. “You’re talking about the ‘obey, break, transcend’ stages of mastery.”
He found himself recalling how, once before, he had brought up the subject and the poem to Skáviðr while the two of them were enjoying some conversation or other.
“Obey, break, transcend” was a Japanese philosophical concept known as shu-ha-ri in Yuuto’s language, and this three-stage way of thinking was applied to martial arts, as well as many other areas where a student worked towards mastery.
In the first stage, the student was required to obey the teachings of the master and the art, accepting the rigid “forms” and rules without question and striving to fully reproduce the techniques that were being taught.
Though it was the first stage, it was also considered to be the hardest.
Every person has their own opinions and way of thinking, after all, and they may not find certain aspects of the teaching satisfactory. What was most important was that the student should empty their mind of such things, and simply take in the teachings.
The next stage, “break,” referred to the act of breaking out of the rigid forms, diverging from the rules as written.
Each person’s mind works in a different way. There are differences in physical build, the environment one is living in, the person’s strong and weak areas. Each of these plays a part. The “break” stage was about changing things about the practice of their art, experimenting with how to better match the student’s individual self.
The third stage, “transcend,” was about not stopping simply at experimenting with straying from proper form; it was about leaving rules and form behind entirely. The student transcends to the next level of understanding, where their practice of the art leads to the development of a completely new, organic style.
It was said that whoever reaches this stage can appropriately be called a master in their own right.
After receiving a brief explanation of the concept from Yuuto, Felicia nodded vigorously, as if she’d had a revelation. “I see. As expected of you, Big Brother. You know so much!”
Yuuto continued, returning to the subject of the poem Skáviðr had quoted. “And so, at the end of the poem, it tells you that even after reaching the ‘transcend’ stage where you leave everything behind you, you should never forget the ‘origin’ — in other words, the fundamentals. The poem was left behind by one of history’s great masters of his art, and it’s really applicable.”
Incidentally, the original poem Yuuto had learned was attributed to Sen no Rikyu, the great master credited with perfecting the Japanese art of the tea ceremony.
“I found the words to have incredible depth of meaning,” Skáviðr said. “The technique I used earlier, the one that you called a ‘trick,’ is something I was able to master only after reflecting on their message.”
Skáviðr crossed his arms, nodding to himself.
Yuuto honestly didn’t have any idea how the old Japanese poem, wise as it was, could be connected to this new technique.
Perhaps it was one of those things that only a fellow master of the sword would understand.
Yuuto decided to just think of it that way for now.
“Yuuto is still alive, is he?” Hveðrungr muttered in a cool voice, sitting at the table with his head propped on one arm.
He was in the Lightning Clan capital of Bilskírnir, in a room in the patriarch’s palace.
After his Panther Clan forces had withdrawn from the Fólkvangr region, they’d crossed back over the Körmt River, and now the troops were quartered in this city.
In contrast, the red-haired young man sitting across the table from him replied somewhat cheerfully. “Yeah, I saw him with my own eyes. No mistake; it was him, all right.”
This was Steinþórr, the Lightning Clan patriarch.
A warrior of peerless strength and a commander of fearless courage, he was feared both within his own borders and in the lands beyond by his other name: Dólgþrasir, the “Battle-Hungry Tiger.”
He had sworn a fifty-fifty oath of brotherhood with Hveðrungr.
“You’re sure it wasn’t someone else?” Hveðrungr demanded.
“The second I saw him, I got a shiver down my spine. I don’t think some dressed-up impostor could ever have that level of powerful presence about him.”
“Ha!” Hveðrungr let slip a laugh, along with a rather derisive sneer.
Sensing that disrespect, Steinþórr’s cheerful demeanor turned darker.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.
“‘The Dólgþrasir isn’t what he used to be. One sharp glance from Suoh-Yuuto was all it took to send him slinking away.’ Those aren’t my words, you know. Right now, it’s all the people of Bilskírnir are talking about.”
“...Ah, right, that.” Steinþórr gave a bitter sigh. It was rare to see such an expression from him. “I bet the rumors started among the soldiers. Well, I can’t help it if that’s what it looked like to them.”
“What happened?” Hveðrungr asked.
“He showed up on top of the city walls, and then the city gates opened up, like he was just asking us to go right on in. No matter how you look at it, clearly a trap, right?”
“He opened the gates?” Hveðrungr asked incredulously.
It did indeed seem utterly suspicious. For a city under attack by an enemy army, such an action would normally be nothing short of suicidal.
“Yeah,” Steinþórr said. “I didn’t have the brains to figure out what he was actually plotting, but even now, I don’t think my choice back then was a mistake. You see, after we pulled back to Gashina and waited there for a bit, reports came in that a force of seven thousand Panther Clan troops got totally crushed to pieces at the Körmt River. If I’d charged into that city, that could’ve happened to my guys.”
As he finished his sentence, Steinþórr leaned back and downed his cup of wine in one swig. He slammed the silver cup down on the table with a bang, and wiped his mouth roughly with his other hand.
“Anyway,” he continued, “that seemed like the right time to quit, and so I came back here to the capital. And that was when I got wind of a rumor going around.”
“Oh?”
“Word is, the Wolf Clan is going to go to war in force, in order to subjugate the Panther Clan.”
“Hmph, surely nothing more than a rumor,” Hveðrungr sneered. “As if they could even spare the strength for such a thing.”
Hveðrungr may have scoffed and spoke boldly, but he did not realize that his own voice was wavering slightly.
He would surely never have admitted it, but at that moment, he was frightened.
Frightened that Yuuto was coming for him.
Although Steinþórr did not sense Hveðrungr’s inner fear, his next words were nonetheless reassuring.
“Well, you and I are Chalice brothers now, and allies who’ve fought against the same enemy, too. Plus, I owe you for all the aid you gave me before. If that rumor does turn out to be true, I can at least provide you with some reinforcements when you need it.”
The phrasing was so obviously fishing for Hveðrungr’s gratitude that his first urge was to reject the offer. But he decided to simply accept it.
“...You have my thanks.”
Right now, the Wolf Clan was far too ominous a threat.
Even worse, he’d just lost seven thousand of his elite soldiers.
The strength of this red-headed warrior, who by himself was worth a thousand men on the field of battle, was a strength Hveðrungr knew he could depend on.
However, Hveðrungr was unaware of a certain fact:
Elsewhere, Yuuto had already begun taking steps to tie Steinþórr’s hands.
Blíkjanda-Böl.
This was the name of the capital city of the Flame Clan, the powerful nation that controlled the vast lands along the great Gjöll River, which divided the Vanaheimr and Helheim regions.
In the heart of the city was the Flame Clan palace, where their patriarch resided.
For the Wolf Clan and its surrounding nations, it was standard to build the capital’s palace from kiln-fired bricks. But perhaps because of the abundant lumber resources of this region, the palace here was constructed mainly of wood.
Its outer walls were covered with a layer of hardened plaster which gave it a brilliant, beautiful white color.
“Now then, I wonder just what sort of man the Flame Clan patriarch is,” Ginnar said, as he awaited the patriarch’s arrival in the audience chamber.
Ginnar was a former merchant trader who had traveled to lands all throughout the empire. Yuuto had seen the value in his experience, and taken him into the Wolf Clan as his sworn child subordinate.
Though he was a recent addition to the Wolf Clan, his shrewdness in matters of economics and finance had provided good results, and he was beginning to distinguish himself as a rising talent in the ranks of the clan.
Additionally, thanks to his past career experience, he was skilled both in eloquent conversation and the nuances of reading between the lines, and so it wasn’t rare for him to be sent to other clans as a diplomatic envoy, as was the case now.
“Even if he doesn’t match up to Father, I at least hope he’s someone impressive enough to be worthy of all this. Well, we’ll see, I guess.” Ginnar kept his face downcast and said all this to himself under his breath, so that no one could hear.
Of course, the man he was referring to was the patriarch of the great Flame Clan, one of the ten strongest clans in the realm, and who had successfully destroyed the Wind Clan, formerly a clan among those same ranks. Naturally, he could be no mere ordinary fellow.
However, this mission was all about getting him to agree to counter the strength of the peerless warrior Steinþórr. “More than ordinary” wasn’t going to be enough to match the task.
A young man with an incredibly beautiful appearance emerged from the back of the hall, and raised his voice, crying, “Our Lord Patriarch now graces you with his presence!”
Upon hearing the boy’s pronouncement, Ginnar knelt forward and thrust both fists against the ground, then prostrated himself.
This wasn’t something he was used to doing, but he knew that in the Flame Clan, it was the proper way of showing respect to those of highest authority, and so he obeyed the custom.
“So he’s finally making his entrance,” Ginnar whispered to himself. His head was down, so he couldn’t see, but ahead of him he could hear the taps of footsteps on the wooden floorboards.
He felt the presence of someone quietly walking across the space in front of him.
In that instant, suddenly Ginnar’s face broke out in a cold sweat that felt like it was pouring out of him.
As a traveling merchant, he’d seen his fair share of sticky situations. He would need more than just one hand to count the number of times he had seriously thought his life might end. He’d also met personally with a number of clan patriarchs aside from Yuuto. He wasn’t the type of man who would tense up in fear at this kind of situation.
And yet despite all that, his body shook uncontrollably and wouldn’t stop.
His teeth chattered loudly, and wouldn’t stop.
Why is this happening?! Ginnar screamed inwardly, and as the confusion swirled in his mind, he heard a heavy sound from nearby.
It seemed that the Flame Clan patriarch had taken his seat on the throne.
“I hear you are an envoy from the Wolf Clan,” the man said. “You have traveled far, then. Well met.”
In the instant Ginnar heard the man’s voice, a great shiver ran through him, a terrible sensation as if all the blood in his body had turned to ice.
The man’s voice was quiet and calm. There was no anger in its tone, no sharpness. In fact, one could even say it was kind.
And yet.
And yet, that voice carried such an intimidating pressure and weight, equivalent to the voice of Ginnar’s sworn father, Yuuto, in his moments of anger.
“Y-yes, my lord,” Ginnar stammered. “I am Ginnar, sworn son of the Wolf Clan patriarch, Lord Suoh-Yuuto.”
Ginnar did not raise his head as he spoke — nay, he was so frightened that he could not do so. He could only stare down at the growing puddle of his own sweat on the floor as he introduced himself, his voice quivering.
“Hm, is that so?” The patriarch’s reply was curt and disinterested.
Of course, right now, the Flame Clan was in the midst of a great expansion of its already formidable power. It was only natural that the lord of such a nation would not be interested in the name of one mere man from a far off foreign clan.
But Ginnar could hardly serve as a diplomat if such treatment were all it took to dissuade him from his mission.
He summoned his willpower, and delivered his prepared statement.
“I-it is a great honor, and I am truly grateful to receive this audience despite the sudden nature of my arrival. In place of my father, I have come bearing gifts for the patriarch of the Flame Clan. P-please, grant me the favor of examining them for yourself.”
Still without raising his head, Ginnar reached over to a large wooden box next to him, and slid it forward.
“Hm, is that so? You.” The patriarch seemed to address someone directly.
“Yes, my lord!” a young voice responded. Was it the boy who had announced the patriarch’s arrival a moment ago?
The youth ran over to Ginnar’s side and took the box.
Ginnar then heard the sound of the box being opened.
“Oh, these are vessels made of biidoro. It is my first time seeing such things in this place.”
The Flame Clan patriarch at last seemed to be expressing a bit of interest in his voice. However, the gift hadn’t moved him anywhere near as much Ginnar had been hoping for.
Also, the items he was examining were glasswares, not biidoro, whatever that was, but Ginnar didn’t have the courage to speak up and correct him.
“Hm? The curve of this blade, could it be... Ohhh! It really is a katana! And quite well-made, at that. I would never have dreamed I might see something like this in these lands!”
Apparently the next item the patriarch had taken into his hands was one of the special swords known as a nihontou.
Yuuto absolutely wanted to exchange an Oath of the Chalice with the Flame Clan, for the sake of their future plans. He didn’t want to hold back in expressing respect to the other party, and so he had opted to include that sword, as well.
That decision looked to have been the right one.
The glasswares had been somewhat novel to the patriarch, but had not swayed his heart beyond that. Yet he seemed to be quite excited about the nihontou.
“I have received a truly fine gift,” the patriarch said. “Tell your father that I give him my thanks. Now, then, having brought such fine items with you, what are you here to request? You came for the purpose of making a request, yes?”
“Yes, my lord. My father wishes to exchange the Oath of the Chalice with you, on equal footing. I humbly request that you consider it.”
Normally Ginnar would not immediately go straight to the request in these situations. Instead, he would enjoy the exchange of diplomatic banter as he attempted to draw out more favorable conditions for the arrangement. However, he didn’t have the capacity for such talk at all right now.
The instincts he’d honed over the years were telling him not to bother.
They told him that, against this man, any attempts at clever negotiation would only blow up in his face.
“Hm, is that so?” the patriarch mused. “Ran, what do you think?”
A young man’s voice responded to the patriarch’s query. “Sir, the Wolf Clan is planning to set out on a campaign to conquer the great western nation, the Panther Clan. During that time, they will need some way to restrict the movements of the Lightning Clan, which is bound by an oath of brotherhood to the Panther Clan. I would presume he wants to borrow our strength to that end.”
“Yes, that sounds right,” the patriarch agreed. “How about it?” he added, and Ginnar felt the man’s gaze fall on him.
He felt like a frog being glared at by a snake; he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
They had completely seen through the Wolf Clan’s intentions.
And that wasn’t all.
The official announcement of the campaign against the Panther Clan had been made the day before Ginnar left Iárnviðr.
In order to enter Flame Clan territory, one first had to travel through the Lightning Clan’s territory, so Ginnar had traveled on foot to avoid attracting attention, but even then, it had only been ten days since the announcement.
It would be one thing if these people had advanced technology like the Wolf Clan, but assuming they didn’t have that, how could they have possibly obtained information about the far-off Wolf Clan in such a short span of time?
Despite how uninterested he had seemed at first, this patriarch was clearly quite the wily fellow.
“It seems you don’t disagree, then,” the patriarch said. “Hmm, well, so be it. The enemy of the enemy is my ally, and this will be beneficial to us, as well.”
“Th-then you will...!”
“Yes. Consider it thanks for such a nostalgic gift. Once you’ve all set out to conquer the Panther Clan, we will send our own soldiers to draw the attention of the Lightning Clan. I am also willing to consider exchanging the Oath of the Chalice, but... I should like to decide its balance after meeting him for myself.”
“Meeting him yourself, my lord?” Ginnar asked.
“Indeed. I shall see for myself if he is worthy of sharing an oath on equal terms with me.”
Suddenly, the air seemed to grow much heavier. It pressed down on Ginnar, as heavy as lead.
His forehead was forced down against the floor.
He couldn’t breathe normally, as if his lungs wouldn’t take the air.
The pressure and sheer presence Ginnar had felt from the Flame Clan patriarch up to this point had already been so terrifying, yet the instant he’d made that spirited final remark, all of it had seemed to multiply in strength.
And despite all of the power he was exuding now, it still felt as if he had much more within him. It was like gazing into a bottomless, unknowable well.
“Is that all you needed, then?” the patriarch asked. “This was a fruitful exchange. Tell the Wolf Clan patriarch that I look forward to our relations from now on.”
After ending the audience with the envoy, the Flame Clan patriarch was making his way back towards his quarters when a voice called out to him from behind.
“Master.”
“Ran,” the patriarch responded without turning around, or slowing the pace of his walk. “I suppose you want to ask about the matter of the Chalice?”
“Yes, sir. It is exactly as you surmise.” The young man known as Ran fell into step behind his patriarch.
He was a man in his late twenties, and so fair in appearance, many would mistake him for a woman.
Whether it was coincidence or due to the personal tastes of the patriarch, the young page boy from earlier had also been quite beautiful, but Ran’s beauty was on another level entirely.
“Yes, I suppose as my second-in-command, you would be concerned, wouldn’t you?” the patriarch asked.
“Yes. If I am not mistaken, our plans were to exchange the Oath of the Chalice with the Lightning Clan, not the Wolf Clan. What prompted you to do what you did?”
Ran had kept silent during the exchange, as it would not have been right to disagree with his patriarch in public, but in truth, the Flame Clan had little to benefit from agreeing to fight the Lightning Clan.
They had no need of the lands on the western edge of the continent at this point. They could exchange the Chalice oath with the Lightning Clan to prevent invasion, and with that fear of attack from their rear eliminated, they could advance towards the central region of Yggdrasil, and thus take the reins of this realm as a whole.
That had been the outline of their plans.
And so, having seen those plans bent in half thanks to a whim, any second-in-command would be hard-pressed to resist questioning the choice.
The Flame Clan patriarch shook with gleeful laughter. “Keh heh heh, it only means I, too, am a fickle child of Man.”
He took in his hands the sword the Wolf Clan envoy had given to him. Unsheathing it, he held its blade up to the light, staring at it with a nostalgic smile.
“Putting the whole Chalice affair aside, I simply thought I’d like to share a drink with this Wolf Clan patriarch. ’Tis all but a dream, in the end. Why not take a detour and enjoy a bit of fun? After all, it sounds like I may get to talk with him about our homeland, too.”
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