Prince of Rage - Chapter 63

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Oblivious

◈ Prince of Rage ◈

Chapter 63

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The person was short and solidly built. Their fingers were very thick, and their nails broad. As a member of a guild under the Lokir Merchant Company, they were one of the kingdom’s foremost goldsmiths and jewelers.

They held a lens cut from crystal, examining the fractured surface of the Dragonslayer’s remains under magnification.

After inspecting them carefully for dozens of minutes and roughly fitting the fragments together, they gave their conclusion like a skilled physician delivering a diagnosis.

They set down the lens and looked around at the people gathered there: Valerie and his friends, along with Lucas, Eirik, and Sigbold.

“It can be reassembled with glue. Since it must dry naturally afterward, each section will need two weeks to a month to dry. The whole thing cannot be glued together at once, so we will need to work section by section and assemble it all afterward. It will take around three months. You may choose whether to decorate the gaps with jewels and cover the entire thing in gold leaf.”

Perhaps it was fortunate amid misfortune. When the jeweler fit the remains together, they seemed largely recoverable. If finished with jewels and gold, they might even look more splendid than before.

Could they finally put their minds at ease now?

Looking at the shattered remains, Valerie felt strangely unsettled. He could not understand why everyone was making such a fuss over these bones.

Sigurd had achieved legendary feats in life, lived carrying pain and sorrow, and above all, was Valerie’s direct ancestor.

But had those things not already become immortal by turning into legend and story? Valerie saw no need to project further meaning or sanctity onto this skull.

Would it not be better to care about the living instead? People had suffered terribly over buying and selling tax collection rights, yet they were spending all this money, effort, and the finest craftsmanship on a skull like this. Was that right?

Valerie felt a sense of absurdity as he looked at the broken skull.

“Then let us decide on the design first. Rather than making it look repaired, we should make it appear as though it was intended from the beginning, so that we can effectively hide the flaws...”

Lucas was speaking to the jeweler, but he could not finish. Sigbold had suddenly seized Lucas’s shoulder in his huge hand.

Judging by Sigbold’s expression, it looked as though the slightest provocation would make him completely lose his mind. He was so tall and broad that it was no joke to think he might actually devour Lucas.

“Hey...”

Sigbold growled lowly, and Lucas froze as though he might wet himself.

“Sigbold, let him go.”

Fortunately, Priest Eirik stopped him. But Sigbold did not release Lucas at once. He squeezed his shoulder hard enough to crush it, then abruptly let go. Lucas hunched over in pain.

“Young merchant.”

“Ugh... M-me?”

“Yes. Who did you buy the holy relics from?”

“Well...”

“I will warn you first. Be especially careful with your words from now on. Do not call your guards or do anything foolish. We are Jomsvikings. I do not wish to turn this peaceful place into a wasteland. I will ask again. Who did you buy the holy relics from?”

Eirik had stopped Sigbold, but that did not mean he was not angry himself. His was a calm anger.

He was an old man with little time left to live, one who could barely support himself, yet he suddenly gave off a dangerous air.

They were not ordinary thugs. If the main force of Jomsborg moved, there truly would be no force in the world able to stop them.

“J-Joms... Jomsvikings...?”

Lucas’s eyes went wide. Without a word, Yorick quietly moved to close the door. Then he stood guard there, ensuring no one could flee.

Even the jeweler’s eyes widened as they looked around from where they sat.

Why me?

“Hey, don’t tell us you didn’t know. You must have believed it was genuine because you knew where it came from. There are so many fakes.”

Knut spoke coldly.

Lucas’s shoulder hurt, and the sudden situation had left him at a loss. He looked at Valerie pleadingly for help, but Valerie looked indifferent, almost bored.

When Lucas realized that he might truly die here, any thought of lying or talking his way out of it vanished.

“V-Vidar. He called himself Vidar of the Red Eye. The white of one eye really was red, as if it had been stained with blood. The Duke personally introduced us... I truly did not know. His identity was guaranteed. I truly did not know the holy relics belonged to the Jomsvikings.”

Lucas spoke urgently, but he did not seem to be lying.

Above all, he had bought the holy relics only to present them as a gift to the Valkyrie.

The Valkyrie was under the Duke of Nearcaster’s patronage, after all. If the Duke guaranteed it, there was no reason not to buy it.

Eirik and Sigbold exchanged looks. It was the name of the traitor they had been tracking.

Vidar of the Red Eye.

“Why did the Duke introduce Vidar? What relationship does he have with the Duke?”

Valerie asked.

“Powerful people always need strong, trustworthy guards. I heard Vidar was hired especially to guard the Valkyrie. They say an Einheri was assigned as her guard when the Valkyrie first came to Nearcaster, but wouldn’t she need more people if she wanted to live comfortably? I never thought deeply about it, but that is all I know.”

“A guard for the Valkyrie...”

It seemed matters had become more difficult. If they carelessly attacked the Valkyrie’s guard, they might end up fighting the Valkyrie as well.

The traitor had stolen the holy relics and fled. It seemed unlikely that Vidar would accept an openly issued duel challenge.

Now that they had somehow found the holy relics, Valerie wondered whether there was any need to punish the traitor. But to true Norsemen, revenge was identity itself.

The tragedy of the Volsung royal house showed that clearly. One reason the Volsung royal house was considered sacred was that, though three generations had been born after their fathers’ deaths, all of them avenged their parents.

Even if they had failed to recover the holy relics, revenge still had to be carried out.

Eirik thought quietly before speaking. The unsettling air from before was gone.

“Young merchant, Lucas, was it? I am sorry, but from now on, the Jomsvikings will keep the holy relics. Once we punish the traitor, we shall take spoils from him and compensate you with those. You have no choice. This is how it has been decided.”

“...Well...”

Lucas trailed off. Sigbold was glaring at him too fiercely, and he did not want to offend Valerie.

From Lucas’s perspective, he had unknowingly bought the relic and been struck by disaster.

Still, he was not entirely without fault. The holy relics had been broken.

He could not protest that Lucilia had done it. Lucas had repeatedly said that he was the one leading the merchant company.

That meant he had to take responsibility when someone belonging to the merchant company committed a wrong.

“You are not a Norseman. We are Norsemen. The world has become much better. Very much better. I hope you understand what I mean.”

Priest Eirik threatened him politely and elegantly.

Of course, he was not wrong. In the old days, they would have started by splitting heads and committing a massacre.

In any case, Norsemen formed much of the kingdom’s ruling class, beginning with the king himself.

There had been many policies of integration, but each people’s traditions, customs, rules, and principles still lived on.

“By the way, when is the Valkyrie getting married? She has been here for two years, right? Shouldn’t she have done so by now?”

Knut asked.

“How could I know a woman’s whims?”

“You’re one of her suitors. I’m asking whether you’ve heard anything.”

“It is only speculation. But I think... perhaps she is enjoying it. Men risk their lives over her and bring her the most precious treasures in the world.”

“What is she, then? A whore?”

“Ivy.”

Knut hurriedly stopped Ivy and looked toward Valerie. Fortunately, Valerie did not seem particularly bothered.

“She’s right.”

“...A-Are you people mad?”

Lucas’s eyes widened in shock instead. Insulting a princess, a Valkyrie, could be a grave crime.

Valerie’s contemptuous gaze at the world seemed to include the Valkyrie as well. Lucas admired him, yet he wondered whether this had crossed a line.

“Looking for a husband, fine. That can happen. But dragging it out for two years is bullshit. How many suitors have died in that time? Didn’t even the Count of Westlanding sell tax collection rights to buy a treasure? How many people suffered because of that? And now holy relics have been bought, sold, and even damaged. There must be many misfortunes we do not know about. Can we say the Valkyrie bears no responsibility? I do not know whether that stupid bitch is thinking it over or enjoying it, but it is time for her to stop.”

“...”

Lucas was left speechless by Valerie’s cold judgment. Who in the world could point at a Valkyrie and say that she was wrong?

Such boldness, or rather, such reckless words and actions, could not be imitated merely by trying.

Of course, Valerie could act that way because he was a prince, but fundamentally, it was his strength and ability that supported him.

He had killed all his other brothers and nephews. A Valkyrie was insignificant by comparison. Since someone so insignificant was spreading misery, Valerie felt that, as the bare minimum duty of his bloodline, he should make her stop.

“So what will you do?”

Knut asked.

“First, we will go to Nearcaster. If necessary, I will take those trials as well.”

“That is a little...”

Because Knut knew Valerie was a prince, he thought it was rather inappropriate for him to participate as the Valkyrie’s suitor. They were siblings.

Yet revealing his identity and going there would bring various repercussions and do nothing for his plans. His final destination was Valden, the royal capital.

“I will only pretend to do it.”

“Well, if you say so. By the way, are we not punishing that woman?”

He meant Lucilia.

“I spoke with her briefly yesterday. She seemed to be a person of low intelligence. It would be ridiculous to hold someone lacking in ability to the responsibilities of a normal person.”

“How lacking? As much as my brother?”

“More than that, I think.”

“Then it cannot be helped.”

“I will take the trials as well.”

Sigbold, who had been quietly speaking with Priest Eirik, spoke up. He was participating because he needed to punish the traitor, who was currently the Valkyrie’s guard.

Valerie looked out the window. It was still morning. Nearcaster was half a day away on foot, so they could easily arrive before sunset on horseback.

“You. Come with us.”

Valerie said, pointing at Lucas.

He had dropped even the polite manner of speaking. There were various practical reasons to bring Lucas, but Lucas was also half a hostage.

Lucas was beginning to think that something about this was seriously wrong, but he could not resist.

He had thought Valerie was merely a highly skilled swordsman and Eirik a wandering warrior monk. But ever since he heard the name Jomsvikings, his heart had been skittering like a mouse’s.

After leaving the holy relics with the jeweler, Valerie immediately departed the estate with his group and Lucas.

Everyone rode horses. Valerie’s group had originally possessed Snow, the horse Knut rode, and two packhorses, but they simply took fine horses from the Lokir Merchant Company’s stable.

They were practically bandits, but once Valerie had made up his mind, he stopped worrying about this and that and simply pressed forward.

Valerie, Knut, and Lucas each rode a horse. Sigbold and Eirik rode together, as did Yorick and Ivy.

Sigbold and Yorick were not skilled riders, so they did not hurry and instead traveled at a slow pace. They reached Nearcaster that afternoon.

A vast river cut through the city, which from a distance looked almost like it had been built in tiers.

But that was only the city center. Buildings spread broadly below the hills.

Compared to Torvik, Nearcaster was so much larger and better organized that Torvik felt like a true backwater.

Colorful tents especially covered the fields beyond the city walls. They belonged to people who could not enter the city or could not afford lodging, and thus ate, slept, and lived outside.

The sight resembled a festival. Looking at it, Lucas spoke to the group.

“Ever since the Valkyrie arrived, it is practically as though a new social class has emerged. Simply put, unless you are someone who has made the cut, even nobles cannot hold their heads high in Nearcaster.”

“Someone who has made the cut?”

“Those who have passed the Valkyrie’s trials. Even if they cannot marry the Valkyrie, merely passing the trials changes how they are treated. Many have come seeking that reputation.”

In other words, anyone who wanted to throw their weight around in Nearcaster had to pass the Valkyrie’s trials.

With such an environment, people like the Earl of Westlanding ended up overreaching without even realizing it.

Lucas was not much different. Strictly speaking, he was not a noble, but passing the trials had made him feel like one.

It was also a place of opportunity for wandering swordsmen, roaming knights, and mercenaries. A suitor could send a champion to take the Trial of Valor in their place.

Naturally, hiring someone skilled enough to pass the trials was not cheap.

And if they won a jousting match or martial tournament, they could claim the defeated person’s equipment and ransom as spoils. Skilled fighters could keep participating as champions, allowing them to accumulate money continuously.

Of course, if they were unlucky, they could die. Many had.

In any case, the Valkyrie’s search for a husband was also an opportunity to earn money and gain fame.

Valerie briefly wondered whether his sister, the Valkyrie, had intended this. But he quickly stopped thinking about it. Whether she intended it or not, she still needed to stop.

The group entered the city with Lucas in front. They secured rooms at the finest inn, then registered for the trials. Naturally, Lucas paid for everything.

Since they were not to face each other as opponents, Valerie chose to enter the jousting tournament, while Sigbold entered the martial tournament.

A name was written in the signature field of the list of entrants.

Valery.

“Don’t you have a nickname?”

The registration clerk asked. A nickname was needed for a dramatic introduction.

“You have Salt Prince.”

Knut said from beside him while eating snacks.

“Not that.”

“Then call yourself the Frog Prince.”

The registration clerk promptly wrote down “Frog Prince Valery.” Seeing Valerie’s handsome face had made the clerk somewhat spiteful.

“Move along. Next.”

“Huh? Wait a moment. Sir.”