“At any rate, if there’s anything I want you to learn from this experience, it’s that there’s no such thing as fairness in war. Do whatever it takes to win. If you don’t, you’ll die.” His father’s words were cold, harsh, and clearly spoken from experience. Nozomu gulped without meaning to.
Come to think of it, he’d heard his knowledgeable sister Wiz quote a famous commander one time: “It matters not if a warrior becomes a lapdog or a brute, as long as they claim victory in the end.” Perhaps that was what Yuuto was getting at.
“Tee hee, you may say that, but you’re just about the softest person I know, Big Brother.” Felicia appeared from behind Yuuto with a snicker.
Yuuto frowned in disapproval. “Hey now, I’m trying to teach my son something very important here, so don’t ruin the moment.”
“Yes sir, as you say, sir,” Felicia teased, clearly insincere, and she stuck her tongue out for good measure before retreating. Felicia loved Yuuto and had eyes for no one but him, so perhaps it was her way of making sure that Nozomu didn’t misunderstand and make his father out to be some coldhearted tyrant.
“Anyway, I know you don’t want to hear some long lecture, so I’ll finish with only this. If you, your siblings, or your friends are ever in a life-or-death situation, do not allow pleasantries, appearance, or honor to cloud your judgment. Okay?” Yuuto stared straight into Nozomu’s eyes, deadly serious.
Felicia’s brother, Sigrún’s instructor, and even his own mother (on paper, at least), Sigrdrífa—Nozomu had heard that Yuuto had lost many people dear to him back in Yggdrasil, which gave those words even more weight.
“...Yeah.” Though he felt like he was somewhat forced to answer that way, he also understood. He was the eldest son and had a duty to protect his siblings. Nozomu etched those words of Yuuto’s into his heart so that he would never forget them, going over each syllable twice for good measure.
“Well, just file that away in your head for now. More importantly, are you all right?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” asked Nozomu, not understanding the meaning of his father’s question. He’d already said he was fine—no injuries or anything.
“You killed someone, didn’t you? With your own hands.”
In the next instant, the sensation of piercing flesh he’d felt through his spear ran through his hands once more, and the pained expression on the enemy soldier’s face manifested in the back of his mind—
Before he knew it, he’d emptied the entire contents of his stomach onto the ground. He’d been so focused during combat he hadn’t had time to worry over it, and he had been on such an adrenaline rush afterward that it had completely slipped his mind, but the instant he recalled it, he was hit with a wave of revulsion.
He’d thought he’d been prepared, yet actually taking someone’s life had affected him far more than he’d ever imagined. He felt sick. Even the thought of murder was enough to make him vomit once more.
“Ugh...haa... I’m so pathetic. I can’t believe I can’t even handle this mu—bleeaghh!”
“You’re not pathetic, son. After killing someone for the first time, that’s the correct reaction to have,” Yuuto said gently, patting Nozomu’s back. Nozomu was shocked at the guilt in his father’s voice. He was said to have been a god of war, so there was no telling how many he’d killed, either directly or indirectly. Just how many sins did he carry behind that carefree expression of his? When he thought about how much Yuuto must be suffering even now, it honestly frightened him.
“Obviously, I’d like for you to live a peaceful life and get by without killing anyone if I can help it, but these are the times we live in. That’s why I figured it’d be best for you to experience it here, so you can be prepared when the time comes.” There was no sign of his father’s devil-may-care attitude anymore. All that remained was a man heaving a sigh of regret and bitterness. Even though he understood it was necessary, his heart couldn’t accept it—that was the feeling Nozomu got.
“Thanks for watching over him, Rún. You’re the reason my son’s still in one piece right now.”
“I’m relieved as well. Many end up dying in their inaugural battle.”
“Yeah,” Yuuto agreed. Nozomu detected a hint of relief in his voice. He may have been seen as some god of war, but he was just a regular guy. Sending his own son off to battle had to have been tough for him. He’d probably been beside himself with worry the whole time.
“It’s said that a lion drops its own cub off a cliff to prepare it for adulthood, but it’s not so easy when it’s your own son, I guess,” said Yuuto with a sigh.
“But in this case, our preparations were sufficient, and there was no cliff anywhere in the area to speak of.” Sigrún flatly denied Yuuto’s musings to himself.
“I was speaking in terms of feelings, Rún.”
“Tee hee, again, that just shows how soft you are, Big Brother.” Felicia had returned, another grin on her face. Perhaps neither of them intended to be that way, but Nozomu felt that they were both kicking him while he was down. It was becoming more and more apparent just how sheltered Nozomu had been up until now, and how far he had to go to catch up to his father. He felt like all the effort in the world wouldn’t be enough. And yet...
He was made well aware that he couldn’t continue to be the pathetic wimp he was now. He would take that frustration he felt toward himself and use it as fuel to grow and mature. Nozomu swore in his heart—one day, he’d be a man even his father would have to tip his hat to.
✦ ✦ ✦
✦ ✦ ✦
“Now then, what to do with you?” Yuuto sighed, his hand resting on his chin. Before him was Thutmose III, made to sit on the hard ground with his hands tied behind his back with rope.
“Do what you please.” Thutmose was almost defiant in his reply. Despite having the military might he did, he had suffered a humiliatingly thorough defeat. Yuuto couldn’t help but feel for the guy, but he wasn’t lenient enough to let someone who’d attacked him just go either.
However, this was the Napoleon of Egypt, a man that had made his mark on history with his greatness. If Yuuto killed him, he might end up seriously altering the course of history. He didn’t want to risk it.
“In that case... How about a trade agreement and peace treaty between us and Kemet?”
“Wha...? Huh...? A peace...treaty?” Thutmose looked confused. His lack of understanding was written all over his face. “What are you scheming?!”
“Is it that unusual? All I’ve ever wanted was to live in peace. Nothing more.”
“I know all about you! You’re the king of the land to the west of Ahhiyawa, are you not?! You came here to conquer this land!”
“I was the king. Now I’m retired.”
“...Huh?”
“I gave my crown to someone else, and now I’m living the good life.”
“Y-You expect me to believe that?! You’re probably still manipulating that king you installed from the shadows, making him your puppet!”
“That sounds like a major pain. Why would I want to do that when I’ve already had enough of being king?” Yuuto screwed up his face in displeasure just imagining it and waved his hand in dismissal. Perhaps Yuuto’s feelings finally got through, because Thutmose stared hard at Yuuto’s face for a while in disbelief, as though he were trying to bore a hole through it. Finally...
“You’re...telling the truth?”
“Yep. All I want is to live a relaxing, happy life with my family.”
“...For one that possesses such power, you are strangely unselfish.”
“I get that a lot, yeah.” Yuuto gave an impish grin. Unselfish—many others besides Thutmose had called him that, but the truth was, all he wanted was peace for his friends and family. Nothing more, nothing less. “So, do you think you could just leave me alone and let me be?”
“You ask for the impossible. I cannot let a presence like yours simply roam free. However, I understand the difference in our power at present, so there is no other option.”
“I’m glad you’re so quick on the uptake. Also, try not to take your resentment of us to the grave.”
“Do not worry. I don’t intend for my descendants to inherit this shame.” Thutmose snorted, unamused, and with that, a trade agreement and peace treaty between the Iárnviðr Trading Company and Kemet were forged.
In the following years, Thutmose III swiftly made the rest of the Orient his (though perhaps he’d learned something from his defeat, as he proceeded more carefully this time) and made Egypt the largest it had ever been. Furthermore, as he had promised, Thutmose didn’t take his resentment to the grave, but the soldiers who’d survived that battle did tell tales about what they’d experienced, often at the peak of their drunkenness. They said that the battle was despair incarnate, that it was like facing off against a mythological demon, and as a result, the hill in the greater Megiddo region that had been the site of the battle came to be known as “Har Megiddo” in their native Hebrew—in other words, Armageddon, prophesied by the Bible to be the location of the final battle to take place during the end times.