“I mean, if it’s not for work purposes, I’m not really sure if—”
“Big Brother, you can be so bullheaded at times like this,” Wiz interjected.
Nozomu merely pouted in response.
“Some things in this world can only be truly understood by letting go of the reins. As the great Bruce Lee once said, ‘Don’t think, feel.’”
“Now that’s a deep saying if I’ve ever heard one.” Arness nodded his approval at Wiz’s aphorism. Nozomu thought that it was an odd saying for someone as meticulous as Arness to agree with, but Nozomu also had a revelation when he heard it. “I see. Yeah, I guess I do have a tendency to overthink things.” His elders, including his father, were always telling him to let off the gas a little, after all. There had to be some amount of truth to it.
“Maybe I do need to take a breather every now and then after all,” Nozomu replied, deciding it was about time to concede the point. “I suppose I could give myself a little vacation, as a treat.”
Thus, Nozomu and the rest of Yuuto’s children decided to head to their childhood home of Tarshish for the first time in many years. What they didn’t know was that, whether by fate or coincidence, the trip would greatly change the trajectories of their lives going forward.
Tarshish, located on the southernmost tip of what is now known in the twenty-first century as the Iberian Peninsula, had been the Steel Clan’s base of operations ever since Yuuto had led them to the New World. As always, houses of sun-dried brick lined the streets. Tarshish was located within the wetlands, so it was easy for the townsfolk to gather the mud needed to build the bricks, just like they’d done in Yggdrasil and the Orient. Five years ago, the town had been bustling and full of life, but now...
“Everyone looks so gloomy,” Nozomu muttered with a frown as he walked the streets. Within the Steel Clan, he was known to have long since perished, so he’d donned a fake beard and wig to disguise his appearance.
“No kidding. What the hell is that Babel bastard doing?” Walking beside him, a golden-haired boy with an intense-looking face looked sour as he blamed the sights before them on the Steel Clan’s current reginarch. His name was Sigurd—Nozomu’s younger brother, as well as Fagrahvél’s son. Despite being only sixteen, he’d already been made vice-captain of the Múspell Unit, displaying outstanding talent as both a commander and a swordsman. The prevailing rumor was that Sigurd had already been selected to succeed Hildegard and become captain. Sigurd’s was yet another presence that stoked Nozomu’s feelings of inferiority, but Nozomu tried not to think about that right now.
“Isn’t that a Hliðskjálf over there?” Sigurd inquired.
“Sure looks like it. Why are they still building new ones?” Nozomu said with a frown. Before him was a massive building clearly still under construction, as the top half was uneven and incomplete.
Hliðskjálf, or ziggurats in local parlance, were towering structures originally built so that the people could get closer to heaven as they worshipped; however, they also served to display the dignity of their respective nations to their subjects and visitors from other countries. Even during Yuuto’s rule, small ziggurats continued to be built to support the faiths of the townsfolk, but this one was clearly several times more imposing, even in its incomplete stage.
“That’s not all... What’s with this ugly statue? Someone’s got bad taste.” Sigurd looked up at a gigantic bronze statue three times his size in apparent disgust. It held a spear in its right hand, and a severed human head in its left—a grotesque display indeed. “This is supposed to be Babel, right?”
“Yeah, and the head he’s holding is supposed to be...dad’s,” Nozomu replied.
“I get that the point’s to make the lie of his own accomplishment more believable, but still, I can’t say it makes me feel very good,” Sigurd grumbled.
“You said it.” Nozomu and Sigurd grimaced in unison, the disgust clear on both of their faces. They understood the reason and knew it had to be that way, but it didn’t change the fact that seeing their father disgraced like this deeply disturbed them.
Screwing up his face, Sigurd practically spat out his next words. “It’d be one thing if he could at least rule his clan correctly, but he’s clearly just focused on stroking his own ego!” Even among Nozomu’s siblings, there was no follower of the war god Suoh-Yuuto more devout than the warrior Sigurd. Seeing his father’s honor besmirched must’ve caused the blood to rush to his head. “All right, Nozomu. Let’s kill him.”
“Whoa, whoa!” Seeing Sigurd exude a dangerous aura as he expressed violent intent, Nozomu quickly tried to restrain him, grabbing him from under the arms. However, it wasn’t enough to stop him, and Felicia’s son Rungr had to assist by pushing on Sigurd from the front. As always, when it came to his father, Sigurd had no brakes.
“Honestly, when he gets like this, he’s more like my mom than I am,” Wiz said with a chuckle. Her mother Sigrún was reserved when it came to nearly everything, but when Yuuto was involved, her boiling point was exceedingly low.
“Isn’t it a pupil’s duty to strive to think like their instructor?” Sigurd shot back, his face deadly serious even though Wiz’s comment had been partly in jest. His inability to sense sarcasm was, ironically enough, also just like his instructor Sigrún.
“Well, it’s not like I don’t understand how you feel, but calm down. Let’s not rush in headlong without thinking about the consequences first. If we just kill their ruler on impulse, the people will be the ones to suffer in the end.”
“Hmph.” Hearing Nozomu’s sound logic, Sigurd stopped resisting. He seemed to be coming to his senses. Nozomu let out a sigh of relief without meaning to. If he hadn’t been able to persuade Sigurd, even he and Rungr would’ve honestly had a rough time getting him to submit.
“For now, let’s wait until we hear the details from Jörgen,” Rungr suggested.
“Good idea. I was just thinking I’d like to pop in and say hi anyway,” Nozomu agreed. Jörgen had been the adviser of the previous reginarch, Yuuto. He’d been too old to make his escape with Yuuto and his family, but in staying behind, he’d agreed to advise Babel and keep a close eye on him during his rule.
Nozomu and the others were now outsiders here. Making a decision based solely on their own opinions would be far too rash. He wanted to hear the opinion of someone like Jörgen, who was intimately familiar with the goings-on within Tarshish and the Steel Clan, before taking any action.
After leaving Tarshish and walking eastward for a while, they reached the mansion of the former Wolf Clan patriarch, Jörgen. Jörgen was taking a walk in the garden when he spotted Nozomu and his siblings and immediately broke into a grin.
“Do my eyes deceive me? Lord Nozomu! Lord Rungr! Lady Wiz! Lord Arness! And Lord Sigurd! It’s been so long!” Jörgen exclaimed happily.
“Jörgen! Still alive and kicking, I see!” With an equally big grin, Nozomu ran to Jörgen and embraced him. Jörgen would be sixty-five this year, but his back was not yet hunched over, and he seemed to still have plenty of life in him yet. That alone made Nozomu glad beyond words.
“Mister Jörgen, it’s been a while,” Rungr said.
“Long time no see,” Wiz added.
“I am glad to see you are well, Mister Jörgen,” Arness said with a courteous bow.
“What a relief. You’re just as healthy as ever,” Sigurd said.
Nozomu and his siblings were all grinning from ear to ear. Naturally, neither Yuuto nor Mitsuki had had parents in this world, so to Yuuto’s children, Jörgen might as well have been their grandfather.
“Yes, it’s so good to see you all. My, how you’ve grown! I’m overjoyed to have my earnest wish realized and be able to see you all as fine young adults. Now I can head to Valhalla without any regrets,” Jörgen replied cheerfully.
“Whoa, whoa, it’s way too soon to be talking about any of that!” Nozomu said hurriedly. “What if I told you I have a kid of my own now? Would that instill a regret or two in you?”
“Wh-What?! Where?! Let me see!”
“Ah, well, actually, she’s still a bit young to go on a trip like this, so I left her at home. But when she gets bigger I’ll bring her, so you gotta at least hold out until then, okay?”
“Pfft. Ha ha ha! Well, if that’s the case, I suppose I can’t die just yet, can I?” Jörgen grinned in amusement. People his age had this strange tendency to just up and die at the point where they felt most satisfied with life. Nozomu wasn’t going to let Jörgen die just yet—as long as Jörgen still had a reason to live, that was all that mattered.
“By the by, where’s Father at? I don’t see him.” Jörgen asked as he scanned the area. The only one Jörgen ever called “Father” was none other than Suoh Yuuto.