“So, what are you doing leading around the Einherjar, little bro? Showing him around the mansion?”
“Nah, I figured I’d give Mister Einherjar here a chance to show what he’s made of.”
“Oooh...” Brimir’s eyes sparkled with excitement. The other subordinates on cleanup duty had the same expectant looks on their faces. They were all impressionable young men, so naturally, they’d want to see an Einherjar in action.
“The strongest of our group against a young Einherjar, huh? Now that sounds like fun. Hey, you guys, go call everyone else over here! An event like this needs a bigger crowd than just us!”
“R-Roger!” The subordinates lowest on the totem pole scattered to spread the word, and in no time at all, the courtyard was filled to the brim with spectators. For Jörgen, that was just perfect. It didn’t matter whether this kid was an Einherjar or not—the more people that witnessed Jörgen pound him into the ground, the better. Everyone, even the gods above, would finally see his true potential!
“You ready?” Jörgen asked, taking a few practice swings with his wooden sword. It was the sword he always practiced with, so it was like an extension of his own arm.
“Whenever you are.” In contrast, Skáviðr picked up a wooden short sword at random and held it at the ready. Jörgen had heard the boy was only twelve years old, but his stance was that of a seasoned warrior beyond his years.
“...Damn, he’s strong!” Once a warrior became experienced enough, they could gauge the strength of their opponent just by their stance, and since last year, Jörgen had gained experience facing off against full-grown adults within Bruno’s Chalice family. The fact that this boy was still a preteen sent a chill down Jörgen’s spine, even more so than the boy’s wolflike eyes.
“So, this is an Einherjar...” Jörgen swallowed nervously. “But like hell I’m gonna lose!” Being five years older could make all the difference. Jörgen was taller and more muscular. He had an overwhelming advantage already, so he just needed to focus on winning—and not on how shameful it’d be if he lost.
“What’s wrong? Got cold feet?” Jörgen taunted with a confident grin. His pride wouldn’t allow himself to strike first, since he was the older one. He was the teacher here, and Skáviðr was the student.
“If you say so!” Skáviðr kicked off the ground.
“Holy shit, he’s fast!” But not fast enough that Jörgen couldn’t react. Clack! With a smooth movement, he returned Skáviðr’s downward strike.
“Guh?!” Skáviðr was thrown off-balance. Not missing that opportunity, Jörgen swung his wooden sword toward Skáviðr’s unguarded torso.
“Tch!” Skáviðr managed to block the attack at the last second with his own wooden sword...
“Ha!”
“Wha?!” But Jörgen didn’t let up, continuing to press his wooden sword into Skáviðr until the boy lost his footing and fell to the ground. Jörgen then pointed the tip of his wooden sword at Skáviðr’s nose.
“What’s wrong? Is this all an Einherjar’s capable of?” His voice was low and icy.
“Whoooa!” The crowd surged with excitement and surprise. Perhaps they hadn’t thought the battle would be decided so quickly. Jörgen hadn’t either—truthfully, the outcome had been so anticlimactic that it upset him. He’d expected more of a struggle than this.
“A weakling like you isn’t even worth training,” he said with a disappointed sigh. He felt like a fool for sensing strength within the boy—for getting nervous.
“L-Let me try again! O-One more round!” Skáviðr protested.
“Fine. Now come at me!” Jörgen replied with vigor.
“Okay!” Skáviðr leaped up from the ground and delivered blow after blow. Jörgen had stoked the fires of desperation in the boy, but...
“Not good enough,” Jörgen spat coldly after effortlessly blocking about twenty of Skáviðr’s blows. For a twelve-year-old, his defense and offense were indeed well above average—outstandingly so, in fact. But only for a twelve-year-old. In the end, a boy with a small build couldn’t hold a candle to Jörgen, who was used to fighting full-grown adults. The boy’s fighting style was also too by-the-books, and he trusted his opponent too much. Perhaps he’d have no equal among children his age, but he was going to have to come into his own a bit more before he’d ever be a match for Jörgen.
“This is how you use a sword.” After using the direction of his eyes and the movement of his shoulders to perform a feint, tricking the boy into guarding his head, he swung the sword with all his strength at the boy’s thigh.
“Gah?!” Slow to react, Skáviðr took the brunt of the attack at full force and was knocked off his feet. He did a somersault in the air before crashing to the ground.
“Is this all an Einherjar is capable of...?” Jörgen muttered, lightly smacking the boy on the head with his sword. Honestly, he couldn’t be more disappointed. Why was this boy chosen and not him? At the time, he’d had no idea. But a year later, Jörgen would finally learn the true strength of an Einherjar firsthand.
“Haaaa!”
“Hooohh!”
The clacking of wood against wood seemed to continue without end. After having sparred with Skáviðr close to fifty times now, Jörgen expected to once again be on the offensive from start to finish—a one-sided battle like all the others. But this time, he wasn’t able to deliver the deciding blow.
“Haa!”
“Hup!”
Even if Jörgen struck with all his strength, he was always intercepted with perfect timing before the attack could muster any real weight. When they were locking swords and he tried to clinch the battle with sheer force, the boy always slipped away like a snake. If he tried to attack Skáviðr with a flurry of blows during his retreat to get him to stay put, he would always avoid it with masterful footwork.
“Damn!” Furthermore, every time Skáviðr slipped away, a sharp strike would follow. Even if Jörgen managed to block it, the boy always took that opportunity to gain some distance, making it impossible for Jörgen to get a bead on him. For the past few battles, that pattern had repeated itself.
“Haa...haa...” But Skáviðr’s breathing was starting to become labored. Even though Jörgen had been the one exerting all his stamina, it had probably exhausted Skáviðr’s concentration and nerves to keep up with such a strong opponent for so long.
“Haa!” But Jörgen had no obligation to let him rest. He sent strike after lightning-fast strike toward the boy.