“Not that either. In terms of raw talent, Nozomu pales in comparison to his father,” Botvid replied. Up until Nozomu had turned fourteen, Botvid had been thoroughly observing him in secret, evaluating him to see if he had the stuff to become the next þjóðann. While Nozomu was the likable sort—honest and diligent, with good morals—he’d shown no signs of possessing the talent his father had.
When Yuuto had been fourteen, Botvid had heard that he’d gotten into an argument with the higher-ups of the Wolf Clan despite having just been whisked away to an unfamiliar, foreign land. That dogged stubbornness and combative personality of his was, of course, unsuited to being a member of a group. His sworn father and instructors had probably written him off as useless back then, but Botvid had learned firsthand over the years that the ability to believe in one’s own convictions and have the confidence to convince others as well—to the point that it could even be confused with arrogance or pride—was an indispensable skill for a leader. As far as Botvid had seen, Nozomu showed no signs of possessing anything similar to that.
“Then what on earth could it be?” Bávorr asked.
“I’ve been called many things over the years, Bávorr. ‘Heartless,’ ‘underhanded’...‘oath breaker’ on a number of occasions. Well, anyway, there are more than a few people who’d relish seeing my head on a pike.”
“Uh-huh...” Bávorr affirmed vaguely, his eyes not meeting Botvid’s gaze as though he was unsure how to respond. It was as if he couldn’t deny it, but he was too concerned about their respective positions within the clan to agree. “That’s why you’ll never be a proper patriarch,” Botvid thought to himself, a subtle smirk creeping onto his face.
“But,” Botvid continued, “even an unscrupulous bastard like me had an ironclad rule I made sure to uphold at all costs.”
“And what would that be?” Bávorr inquired.
“Never antagonize Suoh-Yuuto,” Botvid replied, his lips curling up into a sly grin. Naturally, he didn’t do so out of loyalty—that was far too admirable a trait for Botvid to possess. No, the reason he’d never made an enemy of Yuuto was much simpler—he wouldn’t be able to win against him.
“The war god Suoh-Yuuto wins every battle he fights,” Botvid explained. “Even during the war against the powerful Flame Clan, he strategized to improve his chances of winning; then, when he saw his moment, he clinched the victory.”
“I am well aware. I was also present at the time and witnessed the feat in all its splendor. I remember the genius of it all made me tremble in my boots,” Bávorr replied, nodding strongly in agreement. At the time, he’d been in Glaðsheimr, commanding the Claw Clan Army in Botvid’s stead. Since he’d seen it up close, he had to have known Yuuto’s strength firsthand, which saved Botvid from having to explain and meant they could move on with the conversation.
“Anyway, that war god, who is well-known for being disgustingly sweet on his friends and family, sent his own son out here. What do you think that means?”
“...Now that you mention it, that’s pretty solid proof.” After a gasp of realization, a grin crossed Bávorr’s face. It seemed he was convinced, and as long as he was, that was all that mattered to Botvid.
“Yo, Lord Nozomu. Long time no see.”
“Haugspori?! Is it really you?” When Nozomu saw the unexpected guest who had come into his office, Nozomu stood up so fast that he sent his chair clattering to the floor.
Haugspori was the current patriarch of the Horn Clan and was at one time the Steel Clan’s best bowman. His deeds in the wars of Yggdrasil were still talked about even to this day. Nozomu had received archery lessons from Haugspori every now and then as a child, and Haugspori’s casual, cheery attitude had been a source of respite for Nozomu on more than a few occasions. In short, Nozomu was quite fond of Haugspori.
“I just came here to tell you that I’m placing a thousand of our finest Horn Clan men under your command,” Haugspori explained.
“Really? Wow, that’s a big help!” Nozomu was so grateful that he ended up taking Haugspori’s hand. At present, Nozomu’s army was woefully sparse and at a major disadvantage. His authority as þjóðann was inconsequential with that in mind. Despite the odds being stacked against Nozomu, however, Haugspori had come running to Nozomu’s rescue without the slightest hesitation. That in itself made Nozomu glad beyond belief.
“Ha ha, looks like you’ve grown quite a bit since I last saw you, Lord Nozomu.”
“Well, it’s been five years, after all. Unfortunately, about the only aspect of me that’s grown is my height.”
“Nah, it’s not just your height. Just by looking at your face, I can tell you’ve matured quite a lot too. Looks like you’ve gotten some good life experience under your belt.”
“I...hope that’s true.” Nozomu smiled broadly. Haugspori was always frivolous with women, but not with men, so Nozomu knew it wasn’t just lip service. Nozomu had tried as hard as he could over the past five years. If all that effort was evident just by looking at his face, that honestly relieved Nozomu. “What about you, though? You haven’t changed a bit. You still look just as young as ever.” Haugspori should’ve been pushing fifty by now, but his face still looked just as young, his body just as muscular, and his skin just as healthy as it had when they’d first met. If someone had told Nozomu that Haugspori was still in his thirties, he’d believe it.
“Hah! Well, you know, gotta look good for the ladies. The minute they think I’m some decrepit old man, it’s over.” He flashed a grin, showing off shiny white teeth. It seemed his playboy nature was also alive and well. Nozomu was glad to see the man still so full of vim and vigor.
“Did you say Haugspori’s here?!” The door flew open, and Arness came barreling into the room.
“Yo, Arness! Good to see you, buddy! Wow, looks like you’ve grown too!” When Haugspori saw Arness, he looked elated—more so than he had when he’d seen Nozomu. Even his tone was friendlier. But there was nothing Nozomu could do about that—after all, Haugspori had been in the service of Linnea, Arness’s mother, for many, many years.
“I know, right?! Bet I’m even taller than you right now, shorty!” In response, Arness, who was always so polite, did an about-face with Haugspori and spoke candidly.
“Ha ha ha! So you’d think! But I’m still taller!”
“Oh yeah? You wanna find out for sure?” Arness shot back.
“It’d be my pleasure.”
The two grinned boldly at each other. They really did get along well—perhaps even better than Arness did with his father, Yuuto.
“All right, let’s save all that for later,” Nozomu cut in, clapping his hands to get them back on track. As great as it was that he’d just been given a thousand Horn Clan troops, they were still at a distinct disadvantage. He wanted to pick the great commander Haugspori’s brain about the next course of action they should take. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that he was feeling left out—honest!
“So, it would seem the old clans like the Wolf and Horn Clans have joined Nozomu, and the former Asgardians and citizens of Jötunheimr are rallying to Babel’s side. Practically an even split,” Yuuto muttered, flipping through the report Kristina had handed him. He was currently at sea...or so he’d wanted Nozomu to believe, but he’d actually holed up in Jörgen’s mansion. After pretending to depart on the Noah, he and a select few of his allies had taken up residence here instead to watch over the situation as it developed. In the end, even though he’d done his duty as a parent and booted his children out of the nest, he cared for his family too much to completely abandon them.
“Nozomu has around four thousand troops, and Babel’s army is almost twice that at roughly eight thousand,” Kristina corrected.
“Basically what we estimated before the battle, then,” Yuuto replied, unconcerned. All had gone according to his expectations up until now. The problem was what would happen from here on out.
“Babel still has the upper hand in terms of numbers,” Yuuto continued. “Now then, it’s about time for Nozomu to show his stuff.”
“About that, Father. It seems Babel hasn’t made a move,” Kristina replied.
“Huh?” Blinking in confusion, Yuuto turned to face Kristina. He’d been certain Babel would head straight for Nozomu without hesitation. “But isn’t he the type to charge right in and flatten all who oppose him?”
“Honestly, it’s not really all that surprising that he’s being cautious. He’s up against the war god Suoh-Yuuto, after all,” Kristina said with a sigh of exasperation.
“But I’m not participating in this fight,” Yuuto replied.
“Babel has no way of knowing that.”
“Ah, right. I guess not.” Babel was likely holding off from making any big moves because he was too wary of Yuuto, who had not yet shown himself but who could appear anytime, anywhere without warning. Of course, it was the height of foolishness to fear an opponent who didn’t actually exist, but it wasn’t like Babel wanted to gamble with those sorts of odds. “Well, it makes sense, but that does make the situation a tad more complicated.” Yuuto groaned as he put a hand on his chin.
Truthfully, this development was outside his calculations. He didn’t think a short-tempered powerhouse like Babel would stand for the subordinate clans under him revolting, and Yuuto had figured he’d want to deal the decisive blow as quickly as possible. However, it seemed like the man had learned some restraint in the past five years.
“Yes, I think this deadlock will persist if things continue the way they are,” Kristina said.
“Hopefully not, if we can help it.” Even though he was strictly hands-off this time, Yuuto was still quite attached to this country and its people. It was common for wars to drag on for long periods of time, but the longer the chaos lasted, the more ravaged the land would become, which would cause the people to suffer. Yuuto wanted to wrap this up before that happened, if at all possible.
“Hmm. You think Babel’s afraid of me, Kris?” Yuuto asked.
“I would put money on it,” she replied.
“Well then, that makes this simple.” A malicious grin crossed his face.
“What are you scheming now, Father?”
“Scheming’s an awfully strong word. What do you think I am, a villain?”
“How many years do you think I’ve known you at this point? That expression on your face tells me you’re up to no good.” Kristina gave a resigned shrug. As he’d expected from his longtime partner in wit and wiles, she’d seen right through him. He merely smirked.
“Kris, if you don’t mind, can I get you to run a little errand for me?” he said.