Chapter 47

Translator: Willia

The first sense to return was his sense of smell. Something was burning, but it did not smell like firewood. Were they burning herbs? The faint fragrance stirred an inexplicable sense of nostalgia.

Valery opened his eyes and searched for the source of the scent. A woman sat by the window with a long, slender pipe between her lips, blowing out smoke.

She wore a black silk robe and sat with her legs crossed, though her hood was down.

Long ears protruded through her flowing, silk-like golden hair. A Rune Mage. An Elf.

Bathed in the fresh sunlight, she turned her head. Just as the old tales said of Elves, her beauty seemed almost unreal.

Her skin was so pale it almost seemed to glow, as though pure, immaculate whiteness itself had been gathered up and spread across her face.

It was difficult to guess her age, but judging by appearances alone, she looked to be in her late teens or early twenties.

Her pipe, crossed legs, and general bearing, however, seemed somewhat at odds with that image of purity. If anything, the contrast only made her more alluring.

Her eyes were large and striking, though there was something faintly arrogant about them, almost as if she were looking down on others.

Her emerald eyes gleamed even more brilliantly in the sunlight. When she saw that Valery was awake, she smiled with extraordinary gentleness. The faint arrogance in her expression vanished without a trace.

“Are you awake, Lord Valery?”

“......Who are you?”

“I am Sigrún, a Rune Mage bound by the Pact, a resident of Alfheim, and a Light Elf. I have watched over you for a very long time.”

“......Since when?”

“Since you were born. I was also the one who brought you to the Count of Winsloe.”

Valery felt strangely conflicted. There was no particular reason for it, but part of him resented the fact that she had simply stood by and watched. At the same time, he also felt relieved to know that he had never truly been alone.

All those tangled emotions ultimately amounted to a mild sense of displeasure.

Still groggy after waking, Valery quietly retraced what had happened before he lost consciousness, then continued.

“Why the Count of Winsloe, of all people?”

“We merely follow the light of the stars. There was no other reason.”

“To think you would do something like that over mere Astrology. It’s absurd. And simply watching someone the whole time feels rather underhanded as well. I can’t say I’m pleased.”

“Even an Elf cannot watch someone without feeling anything. Sometimes I rooted for you, sometimes I grieved, and sometimes my heart ached for you.”

Even so, Valery thought it meant nothing if the person being watched never knew about it. Unless it was all some sort of joke at his expense.

“......Don’t tell me this was what selecting an Einheri was all about?”

“I did not manipulate anything myself. I merely watched the stars and followed their light. The Royal Decree to select an Einheri was nothing more than a small ripple. Guided by fate, you proved that you possessed strength worthy of the title, and I witnessed it clearly. From beginning to end.”

The Royal Decree to select an Einheri had given Duke Sven the pretext to take Harold away, and Valery’s attempt to stop him had set everything that followed in motion.

It was a small cause in one sense, yet decisive in another.

Valery turned his head and closed his eyes. He was not going back to sleep. He was simply tired.

He could barely make sense of what she was saying, and the pain he had suffered had been so severe that he was still recovering from it.

The scenes he had witnessed after drinking the Dragon’s Blood remained like scars upon his heart and mind. They had most likely been scenes concerning his bloodline, House Vǫlsungr.

The story of House Vǫlsungr, the Vǫlsungr Saga, was a widely known tragedy. In short, it was a story of children avenging their parents generation after generation.

Every one of them succeeded in taking revenge, only to die miserably in turn. Then a posthumous son would grow up, take revenge again, die, and the cycle of vengeance would begin anew.

An honorable bloodline that never left a blood debt unpaid. A house both revered and feared. A lineage that eventually attained sanctity. That was House Vǫlsungr, the royal house of the present kingdom.

Knowing it merely as a story and actually seeing it unfold while experiencing the emotions firsthand were entirely different things to Valery.

Once, Valery had considered his bloodline a curse. Now, he found himself thinking it was pitiful instead. Perhaps what they needed was comfort, not worship.

Come to think of it, he no longer felt that terrible pain in his heart.

“Dragon’s Blood forcibly awakens Rune Power, so taking it improperly can ruin the body. I suppressed it for you. If you train properly, you should be able to absorb its power little by little, only as much as you can handle.”

“......”

Valery did not particularly care about that. He simply wanted to rest. Perhaps realizing as much, Sigrún said nothing more.

A comfortable silence followed. Voices could be heard outside. It sounded as though everyone was dealing with the aftermath of their victory. The voices were vigorous and full of life.

That was what victory was like. Even when you were exhausted, somehow you did not feel it.

As an aside, everyone believed that one of the Dead Gods had appeared and helped them. Aside from Valery’s friends, no one knew that it had actually been Valery.

A sword wreathed in lightning had illuminated the pitch-black figure, but no one had seen him from close enough, and they had been too terrified to pay proper attention.

“Did the Rune Mages create the Fratricidal War between the princes?”

Valery asked as he looked at Sigrún again.

“We are merely the judges. As you know, the one who established it was King Sigmund.”

“Why did he do it? Was there really a need to go that far?”

“There were practical human reasons, as well as a sacred purpose. I’m sure your clever mind has already worked out the practical reasons. As for the sacred one, it was to choose the one who would lead the way to Heaven.”

The practical reason was that, in the kingdom’s early days, the concept of kingship had been vague. They used the title of king, but in truth, the king had been little more than a representative of the many tribes.

In fact, back when the Nordics still lived in the frozen lands, anyone who rose to the rank of Chieftain called himself a king. In other words, among the Nordics, everyone and his dog was a king.

But if that was to be abolished, if only those of House Vǫlsungr’s blood were to be permitted to become king, then numerous marriages were unavoidable in order to unite the tribes. And that inevitably created problems of succession.

The Nordics had traditionally practiced Partible Inheritance, so Valery assumed that such a strange, brutal, and at the same time crude method had been devised to consolidate power once more.

It was a desperate stopgap, the sort of solution that eased the immediate problem only to make matters worse later. Valery could only assume they had known it was wrong but chosen it anyway because the situation had been desperate enough to leave them little alternative.

That explained the practical reason. The sacred reason was much harder for Valery to understand.

“Does Heaven really exist? Have you ever seen it?”

“Well, I don’t know whether what lies there can truly be called Heaven. But every human being has a death of their own. A king is something like a passage leading toward that death.”

Once again, Valery could not understand what she meant. Nor could he simply believe everything a Rune Mage said. Perhaps it was a question that would be argued over forever. Believe or do not believe. In the end, each person could only choose for themselves.

Silence settled over the room again. Valery looked at Sigrún. Sigrún looked back at Valery. His gaze was indifferent, but hers was not. There was an unmistakable trace of affection in her eyes.

Whether he found it burdensome or simply needed time to get used to it, Valery turned his gaze toward the ceiling and asked,

“If the King dies, and then I kill every member of the Royal Family with succession rights before dying myself, what happens?”

“That is difficult even for me to say with certainty. But recently, I saw a star explode. It meant that the World Line had been shaken violently. It was your star, Lord Valery.”

A star exploding? It seemed to have some symbolic meaning in Astrology, and Valery instinctively understood that it referred to his regression.

As a Rune Mage who divined fate, Sigrún might have seen the general course of Valery’s life before regression, but there was no telling how much she had known. And now that star had exploded and disappeared.

“......I see. But tell me, what do you think of someone who grows up separated from his parents without even knowing who he is, only to be dragged into a Fratricidal War later? Doesn’t that strike you as vile?”

Valery harbored a certain hostility toward the current system of Royal Succession. He could understand that there might have been no other choice when it was first established, but he resented the fact that they still insisted on continuing it now.

“If you dislike it, and if you wish to reject it, then you will need the strength and will to break the Pact and defy fate.”

“What exactly is this Pact?”

“For us Elves, it is both our right to live here in Midgard and our obligation to fulfill the duty bestowed upon us by the Dead Goddess. I cannot tell you the details.”

Sigrún had introduced herself as a resident of Alfheim, but in truth, Alfheim had ceased to exist when the gods died.

“Then stop watching me. I will live my own life. And even if my identity is discovered, I don’t want House Winsloe to suffer because of it.”

“That...... I can do.”

“It was that simple?”

“Every prince has his own Rune Mage assigned to him. If his identity is revealed, or if something happens that violates the Pact, we inform the King. We also never appear before the prince himself. We merely observe. But you, Lord Valery...... there is something special about you. If your star has exploded, then what is the new star that belongs to you? I have yet to find it myself. So there is little meaning in watching you from afar. For me, that is the greatest problem of all.”

In simple terms, Sigrún had just lost her job. A prince needed a corresponding star so that his fate could be read and observed as the succession unfolded, but with his star gone, she could no longer do any of that.

Looking back on it now, severing the entire royal bloodline and then taking his own life was something Valery regretted somewhat, but it had certainly been an extraordinarily destructive decision.

“Fortunately, you answered the faint ripple I sent out, Lord Valery. I mean your becoming an Einheri.”

Sigrún took something from inside her robe. It was a golden cloak clasp formed from three interlocking triangles.

It was the emblem known as the Valknutr, meaning the “Slain Warrior’s Knot”.

In the present day, Einherier referred, in the narrow sense, to the Royal Guard, but in ancient times, the name had belonged to the warriors who gathered in Valhalla to prepare for the Final War.

And the world they now lived in was the world that had come after the gods died in that Final War.

People believed that all the natural disasters that followed, the great shower of meteors, the immense floods, the blizzards so severe that the land became uninhabitable, had occurred because the gods had died.

In any case, becoming an Einheri meant becoming a member of the Royal Guard, but an Einheri did more than simply protect the King. The title also granted Solo Operation Authority.

Solo Operation Authority meant the right to initiate a war alone, as well as immunity from criminal liability for murder and other crimes committed in the process.

The phrases one who fights alone and One-man Army also referred to that kind of authority. Of course, the authority was so immense that it had never actually been exercised even once.

Before this, there had never even been a prince who became an Einheri.

“But why is my becoming an Einheri fortunate?”

“Because it means I can meet you on official business instead of merely observing you as a Rune Mage. Just like this, with the two of us looking directly at one another. I’m probably the only Rune Mage in all of history who has ever revealed herself before a prince, you know?”

It was possible to run into a Rune Mage by chance during the course of one’s life, but an intentional meeting like this was effectively impossible unless one was the King, an Einheri, or a Valkyrie.

Valery did not know whether Elves were normally this expressive, but whenever Sigrún smiled, she looked genuinely happy.

“You may have watched me for a long time, but today is the first time I’ve ever seen you. Don’t expect personal affection or friendship from me.”

His tone was cold, but it no longer carried the same biting chill as before. If anything, there was a faint hint of petulance to it. Perhaps the harsh edge he had possessed before regression had softened considerably.

“That’s not true.”

“What isn’t?”

“I saw you when you were a baby. When you were born. It was only for a little while, but I did. And now we’ve met again like this.”

“And that means something?”

“Of course it does. You seem to take bonds between people far too lightly, Lord Valery.”

“I don’t know...... I’m not sure about that anymore myself.”

In the past, he would have used people as tools or as means to an end, discarded them once they were no longer useful, and felt not the slightest bit of guilt.

But that was no longer true.

Then again, if someone asked whether he had become a good person, that did not seem right either. So all he could say was that he did not know.

“It will be a very bright star. Your new star, Lord Valery.”

“......I don’t care about that nonsense. If anything, I’d rather not have a star at all. More importantly, where are my friends?”

“They are all helping with the restoration work.”

Valery felt relieved. It was less the elation of victory and more simple reassurance that they were safe.

Silence settled between them again. After thinking quietly for a while, Valery finally asked what might have been the most important question of all.

“Who is my mother?”

This time, it was Sigrún who looked away. She turned toward the window as she answered.

“Do you truly need to know?”

“There’s no way you don’t know.”

“You’re right. I do know. But I cannot reveal the contents of the Golden Seal Registry. Nor can I stop you from making your own choices. That is all I can tell you.”

“......I understand. I don’t resent you for it. I can find out for myself.”

At that answer, Sigrún turned back toward Valery. Her expression was difficult to read. She seemed saddened for him, yet somehow proud of him as well, with several other emotions mixed in.

After sitting quietly for a moment, Valery pushed himself upright. That was when he noticed an unfamiliar sensation.

It was as though he could feel blood flowing through his veins, or perhaps some force being pumped from his heart and circulating throughout his entire body.

But it was not blood. He could not put the sensation into words, yet he knew with certainty that it was something else. Some other kind of energy seemed to be flowing along paths similar to his bloodstream.

When he focused his attention on his hand, the energy gathered there, and even Valery himself could feel it filling his hand with tremendous strength.

If this had been caused by the Dragon’s Blood, and this was how it felt after Sigrún suppressed it, then Valery thought this state was preferable.

Power only belonged to you if you could handle it. If you could not, it would do nothing but destroy you.

Valery suddenly remembered something he had forgotten.

“I nearly forgot. Thank you for saving me.”

Sigrún smiled with obvious satisfaction.

“It seems a change great enough to make a star explode was necessary before you could learn to offer someone a proper thank-you. How admirable. Very admirable. I’m touched.”

“......Please don’t talk to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“As if...... Never mind.”

Valery got out of bed. Then he realized he was completely naked and shot back beneath the covers with lightning speed.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I told you, I’ve watched you since you were born. Does anyone come into this world wearing clothes? And I’ve been watching you ever since. Do you really not understand what that means?”

“......”

Whether Rune Mages were strange or Elves were simply like this by nature, Valery had a feeling it would take him a long time to get used to her.

Just then, the door suddenly swung open. Arne and Skard entered the room. They seemed to have been in the middle of a conversation, but the moment they saw that Valery was awake, they fell silent.

The two stared at Valery but could not immediately bring themselves to speak. Something about the way they looked at him had changed. There was joy and relief in their eyes, but also fear.

“Are you...... okay?”

Arne finally gathered the courage to ask.

Valery did not answer immediately. Instead, he turned to look at Sigrún. But the woman who had been sitting there only moments earlier had vanished as though she had never been there.

A faint wisp of pipe smoke lingered in the air, then quickly faded as well.

Only the fragrance remained.