“Oh, he’s currently attending the wedding of Thutmose III, pharaoh of Kemet,” Nozomu said with a shrug. His father had received a formal invitation from the Orient the other day and had decided to attend, saying it’d be rude to refuse. In truth, Yuuto had been about to let Nozomu handle that matter as well and send him in his stead, but Nozomu had rejected that proposal, stating that he didn’t feel he was quite ready to handle something like that yet.
“I see, I see. Well, it’s a shame that Father’s not here, but sending Lord Nozomu as his representative is a most welcome surprise. And so soon after I sent out the missive!”
“‘Missive’?” Nozomu parroted in bewilderment. “What missive?” This was the first he’d heard of it. He stole a quick glance at Rungr, but Rungr just shook his head. He didn’t know either.
“What? You didn’t hear? Oh... I see. Most likely, Father wanted you to look at this situation from an unbiased perspective.”
“‘An unbiased’... Ah, yeah, wouldn’t put it past him. Dad can be a real jerk like that sometimes,” Nozomu replied with a click of his tongue.
Going into a situation with a preconceived notion could be surprisingly dangerous. For instance, if you were told that an art piece was valued at a hundred gold coins, you might end up seeing a mere kid’s drawing as the work of a genius. Conversely, if it was said to be valued at only a single gold coin, you could accidentally write off a genuine masterpiece as worthless trash. Most likely, Yuuto wanted his children to see the current state of Tarshish for themselves, without any preconceptions.
“So, what did you think?” Jörgen asked. “I’m sure you took a look before coming here.”
“Yeah, we did. In the five years since we left, it’s completely gone to seed. What happened, anyway?” Nozomu asked, a stern expression on his face. Whatever it was, it was nothing as simple as a famine or a breakdown of trade negotiations. The government had chosen to prioritize their own interests over the safety of the people.
“This isn’t the nation our dad founded anymore,” Nozomu spat in disgust. He didn’t believe a king should necessarily devote himself selflessly to the people—it made sense to Nozomu that a ruler should be able to indulge in a bit of luxury every once in a while. It wasn’t realistic to hope for a utopia, and doing so would only serve to distort the monarchy. Even so, what he’d witnessed in Tarshish was just despotic—that was the only word for it, really.
“Well said. And unfortunately, all of it is due to my own shortcomings and lack of foresight.” Jörgen bowed deeply. His regret and guilt were practically written on his downcast face. Then, after raising his head, he began to explain. “It all started about three years ago...”
The rule of the second reginarch of the Steel Clan, Babel, had gone without a hitch for the first year. The people had rejoiced from the bottom of their hearts at the defeat of the demonic tyrant Suoh Yuuto and had welcomed the hero Babel with open arms as their new king. Babel, for his part, had listened intently to his adviser Jörgen’s advice and worked tirelessly to perform his duties. Jörgen had thought things would go just as swimmingly from here on out, but at the start of the second year, the wheels began to come off.
According to Jörgen, Babel had tried as hard as he could to make everything work, but his subjects eventually began to voice their displeasure at their unimproved living conditions. In turn, Babel became disappointed with his subjects, which turned to dissatisfaction and eventually hatred. By the third year, Babel had started to distance himself from Jörgen’s incessant nagging and scolding, instead surrounding himself with yes-men whose words were always positive and made him comfortable.
“Looking back on it now, that was when I should’ve alerted Father to what was going on,” Jörgen muttered as he looked up at the ceiling, no doubt chiding himself for his past actions. Back when he was in Yggdrasil, Jörgen had seen the strength of youth overcome hardship and beget outstanding growth more times than he could count. He’d probably realized that in his old age, he couldn’t continue to advise the monarchy forever, and he had naively hoped that he could leave everything up to the youth without issue.
Unfortunately, as a result of that decision, things only went from bad to worse. Babel began extorting his subjects, distributing the wealth not among the collective people, but solely between him and his entourage as he became richer and richer. He began building statues of himself throughout the land, as if boasting to the public about the authority he held, and he worked his subjects to the bone to construct massive ziggurats in his own honor.
By this point, Jörgen had realized Babel was not fit to rule, and the “kingly quality” Jörgen had mistaken Babel’s ambitiousness for had been nothing more than an illusion. The truth was that Babel had no business being a king.
“Of course, these old bones didn’t have the power to rescind Babel’s inauguration as reginarch. Shameful and pathetic as it was, especially for one entrusted with the clan’s future, I finally decided to write to Father asking for aid.”
“I see now. I’m sorry that you had to shoulder that entire burden by yourself. Allow me to apologize on behalf of my dad.” Seeing Jörgen lower his head once more, Nozomu also bowed deeply in apology. Truthfully, Jörgen was at the age where he should’ve used the transfer of power as an opportunity to retire. But without anyone else to entrust the prosperity of the clan to, Jörgen had been saddled with a task beyond his capability. Nozomu wanted to reward Jörgen’s efforts, rather than chastise them.
“Lord Nozomu, your kind words are wasted on the likes of me.”
“I believe I understand the situation now. I’ll report this to my dad as soon as possible and get him to come up with a plan to fix this.” Nozomu assured Jörgen that he would take it from here. He didn’t think for a second that Yuuto would leave his former country high and dry, but even if he attempted to, Nozomu would do something about it. Such was the level of resolve with which Nozomu spoke those words.
“So, that’s the situation, is it? We can’t just leave it be, then,” Yuuto muttered with a troubled expression, bringing his hand to his chin.
Nozomu and his siblings had returned home to their base of operations in the Cyclades and reported the news to Yuuto. He was already pushing forty by this point, but his face had retained enough of its youthful vigor that he could pass for someone in his twenties. Perhaps abdicating the throne and leading a life of leisure had had a hand in that.
“Yeah, we can’t let Babel have his way with the Steel Clan any longer. I’ll do all I can to help, dad. Please let me help you!” Nozomu clung to Yuuto in desperation. He couldn’t bear to see his hometown sullied like this, and his righteous indignation was rousing him to action.
“Hmm... You’re right in that the longer we leave this be, the worse it’s going to become. We need to take care of it as soon as possible. But simply defeating Babel won’t be enough to take care of the problem.”
“Yeah. By defeating him, we’d needlessly throw the country into unrest, right?” Nozomu asked.
Yuuto nodded. Babel was a tyrant, there was no doubt about that. The people would never be able to live in peace under his rule. However, he was also strong enough that he didn’t need to rely on others. At present, he was the youngest to have been blessed with a rune—in other words, he was the last Einherjar. He’d been capable enough in battle to be called a mighty warrior, boasting valor that went unparalleled. As a king, he’d kept the nation together by using that strength to instill fear in his subjects. If Babel was removed from the picture, no doubt the patriarchs of each land would be lining up to try to become the next reginarch, throwing the nation into an era of chaos and bloodshed. That would be a far more potent source of misfortune for the people than remaining under the thumb of a tyrant. If it was only going to lead to the death of more innocents in the end, there was no point. Nozomu wasn’t a kid anymore, so even he could understand that much.
“What if...I became the reginarch?” The moment Nozomu uttered those words, he was surprised at himself. “What the hell are you saying?!” The thought had come out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “You think someone as inexperienced as you could become a king? How ridiculous. You ought to know your own place by now.” He berated himself with one insult after another in his head.
Yuuto, on the other hand, just stared at Nozomu in shock. He was probably thinking along the same lines, appalled at the hubris of his own son. Nozomu was overcome with embarrassment.
“L-Look, I know already. I know I’m not ready. I know I lack the strength!” Quickly, he began to try to smooth it over, not knowing what else to do. He was so ashamed that he wished there was a hole nearby he could crawl into. And yet...