WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Oblivious
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◈ Prince of Rage ◈
Chapter 34
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Valerie had been staying in Cliffden for two days.
He was staying at the temple. There was no priest, and the villagers took turns looking after it.
Though it could hold dozens of people, Valerie was there alone.
As was typical of Norsemen-style architecture, the temple was built entirely from timber, assembled without a single nail.
At its center, charcoal in a long hearth glowed red with heat. Tick. Tick. The faint sound resembled rain.
Beyond the door, he could faintly hear the waves. They crashed against the shore and pulled back in a steady, repeating rhythm.
Like any temple, it was quiet, solemn, and reverent.
It was dawn, and Valerie lay beside the hearth beneath a blanket. His mind was clear, but he had no particular thoughts as he simply stared at one spot.
He noticed carvings on the pillars and their bases. A dragon breathed fire while a warrior faced it.
When he turned his head, he saw the altar. Pictures covered the walls, while weapons and gear such as spears, swords, axes, helmets, and shields hung from them or rested neatly arranged below.
Lit by the faint glow of the charcoal, it all created a somewhat eerie atmosphere.
They did not seem suited as offerings for an altar, but Valerie guessed they were equipment once used by fallen warriors.
Perhaps they were a comfort for those defeated by the king, who could not offer their loyalty even if they wished to, and who could not go to heaven.
Valerie rose. He folded his blanket, rolled it up, tied it with a cord, and left the temple in only his shirt.
Quite a few newly built structures stood in the village. It had once been an outpost, but it was now becoming a place where people could live.
The villagers had made vegetable patches, but they mainly survived by gathering, hunting, and fishing, so nobody rose at dawn. The village was quiet.
Valerie left the village and went to a nearby river. There, he washed his face and roughly cleaned himself. The freezing water woke him up.
After returning to the temple to warm himself, he put on his clothes and equipment. Then he went to the stable to take Snow out, intending to leave alone without anyone noticing.
“Valerie.”
Someone called his name. Not Wid, but his real name.
When he turned, he saw Thorvald. Without warning, Thorvald threw something at him.
It flew almost in a straight line. Valerie caught it with one hand, though its weight made him lean slightly.
What Thorvald had thrown was a kind of felling axe. Judging from the Norsemen-style patterns carved into its blade, it seemed to be a battle axe.
“It is the axe I used. I do not need it anymore.”
It had only been two days, but Valerie had worked in the village as both a lumberjack and a carpenter.
He had come as a Patrol Commissioner, so he should have merely inspected the place and left. But for one reason or another, he had stayed for two days and helped with their work. Still, could he really handle an axe like this?
Thorvald came closer and handed him a small pouch as well. He had thrown the axe, yet handed this over directly.
After hearing what it was, Valerie understood why.
“This is dragon’s blood. Not from just any dragon, but blood infused with the magic of the infamous evil dragon Fafnir. Your great-grandfather killed it himself and obtained this blood. After the Founding King established the kingdom, he bestowed it only upon the five clans that had rendered the greatest service.”
The five meritorious clans were those with the greatest achievements and influence among the many tribes that had fought in the War of Conquest.
They were the Elding, Wilping, Staling, Batung, and Yording clans. Two had fallen during the War of the Beasts, leaving only three.
Thorvald belonged to the Elding clan. Tracing the lineage back, Volsung’s wife, Valerie’s founding ancestress, had been from the Elding clan. In other words, Valerie’s distant grandmother had belonged to the Elding clan.
Dragon’s blood. Valerie had only heard of it. This was his first time seeing it.
Those who drank dragon’s blood either gained superhuman strength or died.
Not every Einheri was like that, but some had drunk dragon’s blood and drawn out superhuman strength.
However, they did not live long. Whether their bodies could not endure such power or it was the evil dragon’s curse, as the legend claimed, was unknown.
In other words, dragon’s blood was a way to forcibly draw out strength through unnatural means.
Had Thorvald, before the regression, drunk this and wielded the power of thunder and lightning?
“I will have no more need to fight. So it is only right that its original owner’s descendant should have it.”
“You have already helped me greatly. The axe is one thing, but this is too much.”
“Take it anyway. One never knows what life will bring. Sometimes there are things that must be done, even if you must offer your heart. Use it carefully. I hope it helps you.”
Offer his heart...
Valerie looked down at the small porcelain bottle inside the pouch. It contained blood. The blood of the dragon his ancestor had killed.
“By the way, do you not use a carpenter’s hammer when you fight?”
“What are you talking about? I used axes and swords my whole life. I guarantee that if you can freely wield a felling axe with one hand, you will have no equal in this world.”
A felling axe could be used in battle, but it was far too heavy to wield one-handed. That was why battle axes were made lighter so they could be used in one hand.
Yet Valerie remembered Thorvald fighting with a short-handled carpenter’s hammer.
Someone as strong as Thorvald could use any weapon, of course. Still, Valerie suspected he had used it as a symbol of vengeance because the villages he had built had been destroyed.
So now, he had no need for any of that. Neither thunder and lightning nor a hammer as a weapon.
“...All right. I will accept it gratefully. Please give Gudrun my regards. Tell her to grow up healthy and wise.”
“Mm.”
Valerie mounted his horse and headed north, leaving the village.
When he looked back, Thorvald stood watching him, tall and firm like the trees of Thunder Forest.
Valerie raised a hand, and Thorvald did the same. In the village at the eastern edge, the sun was just rising over the distant horizon.
Valerie had first stopped by Belfort, then met the ranger, spent a day in Hemsley, and arrived in Cliffden, where he stayed two days.
After that, he reached Molten Tower, where a frontier knight was stationed.
From afar, he could see an ancient stone defensive tower on a mountain. Half of it had collapsed.
At the foot of the mountain was a small village. A waterwheel turned at a mill, people planted vegetables, and sheep grazed in the fields.
It was well into the afternoon when Valerie appeared on horseback along the hillside. The first person to spot him was a young shepherd.
The shepherd had let the sheep graze and sat in the field, merely staring blankly. Even when Valerie rode closer, the child did not rise.
“Is this Molten Tower?”
Valerie asked. The young shepherd only nodded.
“I am a territorial patrol officer. Where is the frontier knight?”
The shepherd raised a hand and pointed toward the village.
“Can you not speak?”
The shepherd shook their head.
“Then speak.”
“Yes...”
“Where in the village is the frontier knight?”
“At this hour... I think they are working in the fields.”
“What work?”
“Fieldwork, of course. We have to farm to survive. Do Patrol Commissioners not farm?”
The shepherd looked up at Valerie as if Valerie were the strange one.
What more was there to say to a young country bumpkin? Valerie ended the conversation and rode across the gently sloping field.
As he neared the village, people going about their work straightened up and looked at him. Valerie headed toward a large field and asked the people there.
“I am a territorial patrol officer. Who is the frontier knight?”
The people looked at one another, then one person raised a hand.
“Me. I am the frontier knight.”
Valerie looked at him. He was the typical country farmer, someone who did not look as if he trained at all.
Valerie was briefly bewildered. He looked at the defensive tower on the mountain, then back at the frontier knight who looked like a farmer.
“What about the tower? Why are you farming here instead?”
“What about the tower?”
“I mean, why are you here instead of guarding the tower?”
“Why should I guard the tower?”
What was that supposed to mean? Valerie was even more bewildered, but calmly stated the obvious.
“...Does a frontier knight not watch and guard the border, ride out when needed, and fight enemies? The tower exists for that purpose, so should you not maintain and guard it?”
“Oh, what a frustrating thing to say. Just traveling to and from that rough place is painful enough. The tower is falling apart, and living inside it is torture. We do this to make a living, so why would I go to a place like that? My father stopped going there first, and I have only climbed up there a handful of times in my entire life.”
“...”
For a moment, Valerie felt as though his brain had stopped working. It was absurd enough that the man did not fulfill his duty, but he was shameless about it too, leaving Valerie speechless.
Still, rather than getting angry, Valerie thought it through. This place had originally watched for Viking invasions.
Long before the War of Conquest, the Vikings had carried out occasional raids. The tower had likely been built to stop or monitor them, but since Vikings would no longer come, it seemed people simply lived this way now.
By principle, the frontier knight before him was neglecting his duty. But in reality, he was someone working hard to survive.
That made Valerie wonder why there was any need for a frontier knight at all. Yet at the same time, he wondered whether there was any need to strip the man of the position. Here, frontier knight seemed to mean something like village chief.
Valerie concluded that this was a matter for Duke Sven to decide, not himself.
“Where is your horse?”
“My horse? Did you think I had one just because I am a knight? My father sold it when I was young. With that money, he bought farming tools like plows and hoes, as well as livestock. See those sheep over there? At first, we had five lambs. We raised them on human milk. Some died, but some survived and multiplied into that flock. If we had not sold the horse, people would have starved to death first. If you want to hold someone accountable, tell His Excellency exactly that.”
To a knight, a horse was both pride and status. It was hard to imagine how the man had felt when he sold it, but it seemed he had sold it well.
Still, if that was the reality, Duke Sven’s proudly mentioned force of Forty-Two Knights was probably smaller in truth.
About twenty knights stayed in the annex at Torvik Fortress. The rest were viscounts, barons, their knights, and frontier knights like this one.
And they would raise troops from places like this? Valerie saw little point in it.
“I did not ask in order to hold you accountable.”
“Then may I return to work?”
“What can I say? I only asked what I needed to ask. I understand your circumstances.”
“Do not take offense. It is not common, but sometimes Patrol Commissioners come and make trouble over this and that. Thank you for understanding. If you need a place to stay, use any house.”
“How many people are in your family?”
“Why do you ask?”
“If there are many, I will stay at the mill instead.”
“Let me see... How many are there? Hey, how many people are in our family?”
“Twenty-four.”
A young man, perhaps a son or a grandson, answered.
Their family was so large because cousins lived together as well as direct relatives.
“I will stay at the mill. Please provide hay and food.”
“All right.”
Valerie turned his horse around again. When he reached the mill, he dismounted and went inside. Hearing hoofbeats, a man and a woman hurriedly got dressed.
“You two are really getting up to all sorts of things.”
“W-Who is it?”
“I am a Patrol Commissioner. I have decided to stay here, so take care of your business somewhere else.”
“Ah... yes.”
The man and woman hurried out of the mill in a fluster.
After destroying their romance, Valerie stayed there for the night.
Out of consideration for him, the villagers blocked the waterway that turned the waterwheel, so it was not noisy. Only the sound of a nearby stream could be heard. Babble, babble, babble.
The next day, Valerie stocked up on cheese, dried mutton, vegetables, hay, and other supplies before setting out.
He had visited everywhere he needed to visit. All that remained was to return to Torvik.
Living only in the city had felt stifling, but now that he had come to the countryside, his mind was unsettled in several ways. Still, he thought many good things had happened.
Valerie looked back on those memories and reflected on Thorvald’s words.
Then, when he was almost at Torvik, he saw the tall watchtower of Torvik Fortress in the distance.
A cage for imprisoning people hung from that watchtower.
Someone was inside.
It was Knut.
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