Chapter 62

Translator: Willia

Vǫlsungr had grown up alone in the wild. In the year he turned fifteen, he gathered companions, wiped out the clan that had killed his father, seized their lands, and finally avenged him.

Afterward, the clan led by Vǫlsungr grew stronger and wealthier by the day. Their expeditions never ended in failure, and whenever they fought an enemy, they invariably defeated them.

Once the clan’s rule had settled into a period of stability, Vǫlsungr took a woman of House Elding as his wife.

But years later, when his wife was nearing the end of her pregnancy, her family began plotting, coveting Vǫlsungr’s power and wealth.

One night beneath a bright full moon, they finally broke in while Vǫlsungr slept and assassinated him.

Even grievously wounded, Vǫlsungr cut one of his brothers-in-law in half before speaking his final words in a voice seething with fury.

“Long ago, a Witch foretold that this would happen, so I knew it was coming. But our clan does not flee from fate. Like my mother before me......”

His wife, deeply shocked, fled on the spot with nothing but her husband’s sword.

Perhaps they could not bring themselves to kill their daughter, or sister, as well. Or perhaps Vǫlsungr’s monstrous strength even as he lay dying had left them too stunned to act. Whatever the reason, the vile assassins failed to stop her.

On the day Vǫlsungr died, the day her husband was murdered, Hljod gave birth beneath the cold moonlight, consumed by resentment, rage, and grief.

She bore two children. Twins, a boy and a girl: Sigmund and Signy.

Hljod was no longer a man’s wife. She was a mother.

The mother wandered without destination, swearing vengeance over and over again. There was hardly a hardship she did not endure, hardly a thing she did not do. All the while, she raised the twins by obsessively instilling in them a thirst for revenge.

Sigmund grew into the bravest and most accomplished warrior in the region. Signy was beautiful and clever, and above all, she possessed the fierce streak peculiar to House Vǫlsungr.

Once the twins came of age, their mother sent her daughter to become the concubine of the Chieftain of House Ylfing so they could gain his aid.

Even then, one thing continued to trouble their mother. It was her son, who appeared proud and every inch a warrior on the outside but was tenderhearted within.

And so the twins’ mother made a decision. Or perhaps she had been preparing herself for it for a very long time.

“It seems I must have borne you wrong somehow and the two of you ended up with your sexes switched. But what can be done? There is nothing we can change now. I, too, come from the family of your father’s enemies. I will set an example myself, so you must never forget your vengeance.”

Before her children’s eyes, their mother took their father’s sword and stabbed herself in the stomach, killing herself.

The twins buried their mother together, held her funeral, and swore to avenge both their parents.

But things did not go entirely as they wished. The Ylfing Chieftain showed little enthusiasm for the twins’ vengeance.

What did catch the Chieftain’s greed-brightened eyes, however, was Vǫlsungr’s treasured sword.

“I have heard your father’s sword is such a fine blade that countless battles have failed to leave so much as a scratch upon it. Would you give it to me as a wedding gift?”

Sigmund was as proud as he was brave. Right there and then, he drew the sword and brought it down on a hard boulder nearby. The blade broke cleanly in two with a single blow.

“Take it. If you can reforge it.”

The Chieftain tried to melt down the broken sword and forge it anew, but a blade tempered by two generations of vengeance would not melt in even the fiercest flames.

Broken or not, the sword had indeed been given as a wedding gift. The Chieftain therefore took Signy as his concubine and brought Sigmund into his retinue as a warrior.

After that, Sigmund went into battle time and again, distinguishing himself as the bravest and most accomplished warrior in every fight while steadily building his strength.

Meanwhile, Signy intended to bear a child and raise it into an incarnation of vengeance, just as her own mother had done. Unfortunately, every child she bore the Chieftain suffered from severe disabilities.

As tradition demanded, Signy personally took the lives of each infant she bore.

At last, at her wit’s end, she sought out a skilled Seer and asked why. He answered:

“Your clan can produce descendants only with those worthy of it. House Ylfing is a poor match for your blood, while House Elding is highly compatible. Why not take a man from that house as your partner? There is no other choice.”

But to Signy, House Elding was the mortal enemy upon whom she absolutely had to take revenge.

Signy considered his words for a moment, then fixed the Seer with the fierce gaze characteristic of her clan.

“No other choice? You don’t know us. Just as my grandmother did, and as my father and mother did, we are always the ones who choose. Not some Seer.”

That night, Signy used magic to disguise herself and entered the bedchamber of Sigmund, her older twin brother, who had only just returned from battle and was exhausted.

Later, after their vengeance had been fulfilled, she gave birth to a child. Unlike all the children before him, he had no disability at all and was perfectly healthy.

That child was Sigurd the Dragon-Slayer, the greatest hero of all the Nordics.

Before the sun had risen, Valery finished an early meal and came out to admire the long tapestry hanging in the corridor.

A tapestry was a woven cloth on which pictures were formed using threads of different colors, and the one at the Lokir Merchant Company stretched for dozens of meters, constituting an entire history, legend, or epic in its own right.

Beginning with the birth of the world, passing through the Twilight of the Gods, and continuing all the way to the tragedies and Conquest War of House Vǫlsungr, it was a single work of art depicting an immense tale through pictures.

The corridor was dark, but the deep blue light particular to the early morning was enough for him to appreciate the images.

Valery had stopped at the part about the parents of Sigurd the Dragon-Slayer. More specifically, it was the story of Sigmund, Valery’s own great-great-grandfather.

It depicted the moment Sigmund’s younger twin sister, Valery’s great-great-grandmother, disguised herself with a Witch’s potion and secretly entered Sigmund’s bedchamber at night.

“I am especially fond of that part myself. Was it love, I wonder, or vengeance?”

Someone spoke to Valery as he quietly studied the image. It was Lucas.

Valery merely glanced at him, quickly looked away again, and offered no particular answer.

“Have you eaten? Nothing has been inconvenient, I hope? I was occupied with backlogged work yesterday and failed to see to you properly. My apologies.”

“I have been very satisfied with my stay.”

“Glad to hear it. By the way, may I ask you a favor?”

Valery turned toward him, his look asking what the favor was.

“I have an important business deal today. I would like you to accompany me. I will reward you handsomely.”

“Sorry, but I already have plans. I agreed to attend the Duke’s feast with your sister today.”

“Ha ha, yes, I heard about that. But I am the one running this Merchant Company. I feel bad for Lucy, but shouldn’t official business take priority over private matters? Lucy will understand. I will explain it to her myself, so you needn’t concern yourself with it, Valery.”

Lucas intended to beat Lucilia to the punch and take Valery with him first. It was rather petty.

Still, whatever Lucas’s intentions might have been, Valery thought he had a point. After all, Lucas was effectively the one in charge of the Merchant Company at present, and he was the one extending them these courtesies.

Of course, since Valery had saved Lucas’s life, he did not particularly feel that he owed him anything.

So he agreed without giving it much thought.

“Very well.”

Only then did Lucas smile in satisfaction, though he himself had no idea what, exactly, he was so pleased about.

Still, something about him struck Valery as strangely off. The corridor had been too dark for him to notice at first, but Lucas’s clothes, the belt around his waist, his shoes, even his sword were identical to Valery’s.

Lucas’s sword was not Dwarven Steel, of course, but its hilt, length, scabbard, and overall construction were almost the same. His clothes, shoes, and belt were completely identical.

Looking more closely, Lucas had also cut the hair that had once reached his shoulders. Even the style resembled Valery’s.

Valery wondered what was going on, but he was only well versed in his own areas of expertise and had no idea what something this bizarre was supposed to mean. Even counting the time before regression, he had never encountered anyone like this.

“They say the hours of daylight are like gold, so although it is a little early, let us set out shortly.”

Valery agreed, then began preparing to leave the manor early that morning with his companions.

Meanwhile, Lucilia had been so troubled by what had happened with her brother, and by her promise to Valery, that she had been unable to sleep all night. She finally fell asleep around dawn and woke late in the morning.

When the bright morning sunlight streamed through the soft silk curtains and lit her bedroom, she forgot all the worries of the previous night and shot upright in alarm.

“What am I doing!”

She hurriedly pulled the cord beside her bed to summon the maids, then bustled about eating, washing, applying makeup, and choosing clothes.

She was in an absolute fluster, but the several experienced maids attending her handled everything perfectly no matter how chaotically she moved.

“Not purple. It looks too mature. Pink...... no, not this either. This makes me look too young. White could get dirty on the way.”

“Then, My Lady, why don’t you dress comfortably for the journey and bring the other clothes with you?”

“Would that be better? Won’t we be pressed for time? Then I’ll have to leave his side for a little while. What should I say?”

“Are you talking about that beautiful-looking guest?”

“Yes. Valery. I told you, didn’t I? We’re attending the feast together today.”

“Um...... but it looked like he was about to leave just now.”

“What? What do you mean? Is he going out for a ride?”

“No. I heard he’s going with the Deputy Head of the Merchant Company to some important engagement......”

“......”

Lucilia did not immediately understand what she meant. But then the pieces clicked together in her head, and rage seemed to surge all the way up from the pit of her stomach.

She had waited until late last night for him to come apologize. And this was how he stabbed her in the back?

Lucilia trembled with betrayal until all reason deserted her. She sprang up from the vanity and headed off somewhere. Her destination was Lucas’s office.

There, she picked up the extravagantly gilded Reliquary that had been carefully stored away and hurried downstairs at a pace just shy of a run.

It was the most precious treasure in the world, the one Lucas had intended to give to the Valkyrie as a gift.

When she reached the lower floor, she saw Valery’s group just as they were about to leave, as well as Lucas smiling and talking with Valery.

The sight made Lucilia completely snap.

“Hey!”

Her sharp voice rang through the corridor as though piercing the air, amid the marble, ancient statues, and all manner of artworks.

Naturally, everyone turned toward Lucilia. Her heels clicked rapidly against the floor as she strode straight toward Lucas.

“Huh?”

Sigbold and Eirik both stared in shock at the same time. The object in Lucilia’s hands was none other than the Reliquary the traitor was said to have fled with.

The situation was so sudden that no one had time to react. By the time they realized what was happening, Lucilia was already close. Glaring at her older brother as though she wanted to kill him, she hurled the Reliquary hard onto the floor.

BANG!

The casket was sturdy enough that it did not break, suffering only a slight dent, but what it contained spilled out. Compared to the ornate box, it was nothing more than an unremarkable old human skull.

While everyone stood dumbfounded, Lucilia raised her foot and stomped on the skull.

CRUNCH! CRACK! CRACK! CRUNCH!

The skull shattered, and splintered pieces of bone went bouncing across the corridor.

Fragments of the skull of Sigurd the Dragon-Slayer, Valery’s great-grandfather and the greatest hero of the Nordics.

“......”

No one spoke after what had just happened. They could only stare blankly.

Still huffing with rage, Lucilia glared at Lucas, then whipped around and strode away again, her heels clicking against the floor.

Even the mighty Sigbold seemed to have all the strength drain out of him, and he dropped heavily to his knees. In the end, it was the infirm old Priest who had to support him.

Could the scattered fragments of bone be pieced back together? And even if they could, would that make it as though none of this had ever happened?

Chapter 14 – Broken Faith. End.