WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Oblivious
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Prince of Rage ◈
Chapter 97
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* * *
Everything had changed. Even Valerie no longer knew what would happen next. Bringing the Third Prince, Ivar, here had been that significant.
Perhaps it had all begun when Harald asked him to come along to celebrate his birthday. By not ignoring him then and taking one step forward, he had come this far.
So, as Ivar had said, Valerie felt that this was not a matter of living two lives, but that all of it was one life.
“Valerie...”
Creak.
Lucas called to Valerie as he came downstairs. Valerie and his friends turned toward him from the table, and he looked half out of his mind.
They were currently staying at the Lokir Merchant Company branch in Hayden Crossroads. The weather was too harsh to travel to the headquarters, and Ivar was too weak.
Lucas had rushed over as soon as he heard the news. He had just come downstairs after seeing the Third Prince, Ivar.
With only the sound of firewood burning, everyone remained silent. Lucas dropped weakly into a chair, seemed to think for a long time, then spoke.
“War... There will be war. Probably...”
“If you’re truly afraid, you can step out. I won’t resent you.”
“That isn’t what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I’m wondering whether this is worth that much.”
It was truly sudden and shocking. Valerie had brought the Third Prince north. It was shocking not only to Lucas, but to everyone in the world.
“There will be no more offering princes as sacrifices. If that is worth anything, then it is worth something. As for the next king, I will become king myself.”
Valerie spoke calmly. Yet perhaps because of the weight of his words, the silence grew heavier.
Knut, Yorick, Brynhildr, and Ivy followed Valerie without much thought, but Lucas led a vast merchant company. There were not merely one or two people for whom he was responsible.
Still, since the topic was so serious, Lucas revealed his thoughts plainly instead of speaking indirectly. He said something he normally would not have dared to say.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to kill the princes and become king?”
“By killing a dragon, I saved the Cambrians. Now, I intend to fight the dragon called the world. Whether it is easy or difficult is not the issue. It is something that must be done. That is my freedom.”
“Much blood will be spilled.”
“I guarantee that far fewer people will die than if the princes fight a civil war among themselves. People will not know that. They may point fingers at me and condemn me. Even so, I do not care.”
Valerie had already experienced it once. The king’s death and the civil war between the princes.
At first, army fought army, but as the civil war intensified, the princes committed massacres to weaken their enemies.
The tragedy was that people tended to lose sight of their purpose while committing cruel acts and become immersed in cruelty itself. There were many sights at massacre sites that one could not bear to see.
By that point, even the practice of capturing nobles or knights for ransom had vanished. They simply killed everyone.
No one had ever made an exact count, but in the end, the population of the entire kingdom had truly fallen by more than half.
Everywhere in the kingdom, there was only death. That was the War of Succession.
But people could not understand what they had never experienced. At this moment, Valerie, who was starting a war, might become the worst villain of all.
Could someone who killed ten or twenty people out of a hundred to save the rest truly be called a hero? Yet that was also what a king had to do.
Lucas had not pressed him, but after firing several questions at Valerie, he nodded.
“I do not know much about military matters. But if we only hold the bridge, we can stop the Antler Alliance from moving north. So I do not think we will need many troops. Still, I cannot say what will happen as time passes. They may take a long route around. A civil war may break out in Edelia. I do not know how the king or the Kingmakers will react. And on top of that, the title of Duke of Nearcaster is vacant. For now, I will try to persuade the Silverrich Mercenary Company.”
“You will be the Duke, Lucas.”
“What?”
“I mean exactly that. You will be the Duke.”
“...”
“The current king is among those I will fight.”
“...”
Either he was mad, or he was the greatest person in history. Perhaps he was both.
“The first objective is securing the Golden Register. We cannot achieve that immediately, but we need to know the princes’ names and where they live in order to secure them.”
Valerie had already established both his greater goals and his intermediate goals. And upon closer examination, all of those goals were also goals for the process itself.
He was not merely focused on becoming king. He intended to become king while rejecting all existing traditions and practices.
If there was no other choice, he might kill other princes. But he would give those who wished to live a chance to live, allowing each person to continue their own life.
Valerie believed that was the process through which a god became human, and through which one regained freedom from being preserved like a specimen.
“Knut and Yorick, go north. Find Duke Gunnar, Arne, and a man named Thorvald, and ask whether they can help me. Brynhildr, go to Cambri. Tell the people there that the dragon-slayer calls for them, and bring any warriors who wish to come with you.”
It was as though he were issuing a summons. But this was not an appeal to loyalty based on a mutual contract. It rested entirely on their personal loyalty to Valerie.
Would they answer? No one could know. But the result would also be an assessment of how Valerie had lived until now.
“And Lucas, rather than persuading the Silverrich Mercenary Company, focus on taking control of Nearcaster. Whether by assassination or persuasion, seize the influential people in the city and rule it in practice. Use my elder brother as your legitimacy. Also, send word to Sigbold. Tell him that I have decided to become king myself, so he must choose whom to follow, the current king or me.”
The Jomsvikings were famous for obeying only the current king’s orders. They were also famous for never taking part in the War of Succession, but now its nature had changed.
As Valerie had said, this was not a War of Succession. It was a battle against the dragon called the world.
“King...”
Knut murmured. He truly could not grasp it. What Valerie, and what they themselves, were doing now.
He had no great cause, dream, or ambition. All that mattered was that Valerie had pulled him from a cage twice.
The others were the same. Yorick had come this far after living as a beggar in the back alleys. Valerie had taken Ivy’s revenge away with him. Brynhildr had had nowhere in the world to belong, only to finally find a place beside Valerie.
Having watched him closely, they knew well how capable and extraordinary Valerie was. But they had no way of knowing how far his gaze reached.
The depth of life, and the breadth of the world. Valerie’s sight had reached places others could not see. He had gone there alone.
That was why his friends did not want Valerie to walk that lonely path alone. They only wished to walk it with him.
“Your Highness.”
Yorick called. Valerie, who had been gazing at the firewood with a strange loneliness despite being among people, turned to him.
“You have something on your face.”
Valerie touched his cheek, but Yorick smiled.
“I’m lying.”
Valerie let out a disbelieving snort of laughter. Only then did the tense expressions of the others begin to soften a little.
“It is winter now, and you’re sending us on errands. To the north, no less?”
As if he had been waiting for the chance, Knut voiced his complaint. Brynhildr shook her head as well.
“Still, isn’t the road north easier? There probably is not even a proper road to Cambri.”
“Well, in any case, a great deal will happen this winter.”
Lucas added a word, and Valerie could only smile apologetically.
At least he was not lonely. If that alone made for a successful life, then it was a successful life.
There was no need to seek happiness far away. One only needed to enjoy it close at hand.
Therefore, walking toward a dream did not mean seeking happiness. It meant preparing oneself to become unhappy. Then, even if misfortune came, it could not torment or suppress me.
Having willingly decided to become unhappy, he would be able to embrace pain and sorrow alike with his whole body and heart.
That was what Valerie thought.
A cold wind blew across Giant Bridge at Hayden Crossroads.
The north side was blocked with barricades and all manner of broken wagons, while the other side was covered with tents and barracks like an army encampment.
Every day, Valerie spent most of his time near the bridge. It was to observe the enemy, and also a kind of one-man display of force.
The enemy was intimidated by Valerie alone, but they did not give up.
Knights and soldiers only did as they were told. In the end, the will to wage war came from the command.
Someone walked onto the bridge and shouted upon seeing Valerie.
“Hey! Do you have any idea what you’ve done!? Return His Highness at once! Are you not afraid of war!? Do you think we cannot cross just because you have blocked the bridge!?”
Valerie merely stared blankly from atop Snow.
When war broke out, all manner of insults and humiliation being exchanged during a standoff was an everyday occurrence. Such petty threats meant nothing to him.
“You will regret this, bastard! We will burn the entire Lokir Merchant Company and slit open the bellies of everyone you know to pull out their guts! Hand over His Highness while we are still asking nicely! What do you think you can do now!? Neither His Majesty nor the Kingmakers will take your side!”
Valerie dismounted. He picked up a stone from the ground nearby, then hurled it at the person who was shouting as they boldly came closer.
“You think my words are a joke!? Do you know who you are provoking...!”
Crack!
The stone flew so fast it was nearly invisible, and it smashed the shouter’s head.
The force in the stone shattered their skull and hurled them far away. They fell from the bridge.
The soldiers on the other side stared blankly at their foul-mouthed loudmouth as they fell beneath the bridge. Rather than mourning his death, they only thought that crossing the bridge was probably a bad idea.
But one of the tragedies of an army was that the command could think differently, even after those on the scene had witnessed it.
“Just raise the shields and push through. With this many troops gathered, does it make sense that we cannot cross one bridge? Will you take responsibility if His Highness goes farther north while you dawdle? Huh? Will you take responsibility?”
Count Gareth berated his subordinate.
In truth, Hayden Crossroads, where Valerie was, had many spectators but not a single soldier. Valerie was truly holding them back alone, so it was frustrating for the Count that they could not cross the bridge.
Now that the order had come down, the middle-ranking officers had to carry it out somehow. They selected troops for the operation, arranged formations in advance, planned how to advance and clear the obstacles, and considered what would follow.
Suggestions went back and forth. Ignore Valerie and flood into the crossroads first. Hold Valerie back to buy time and send in more troops.
Operations were not planned in a day or two. And from the other side, one could roughly see what sort of operation was being prepared. Battles were fought when both sides knew all that could be known.
In any case, the operation was planned, and the southern troops began crossing the bridge in several layers of formation, large shields at the front. To someone unfamiliar with it, it looked like a simple formation, but military operations were not so simple.
Valerie, on the other hand, was simple. He had no one to command. He only had to move himself.
The vanguard behind the large shields had poor visibility. Their goal was first to reach the obstacles and clear them away.
But before they had even reached them, they saw through gaps in their shields that the obstacles ahead were being removed.
Then a person appeared before them, carrying a long, thick log. A log no one man could carry alone.
The person seemed to be approaching while holding it sideways, then began moving faster and faster.
“Hey, wait.”
“Stop.”
They were speaking to comrades pressed shoulder to shoulder beside them. But once an army advanced, individuals could not stop or change direction as they pleased. They were being pushed from behind, packed tightly together at the sides.
“Hey! I said stop!”
“Uh?”
Then Valerie came charging at full speed, carrying the log and ramming them with it.
The front ranks collapsed in a heap. As they were shoved backward, troops tumbled beneath the bridge in droves.
Then true tragedy came upon them.
Valerie drew his sword and raised it high. Sunlight fell upon it and flashed brightly, clearly enough for the southern soldiers and spectators alike to see.
Valerie shouted loudly as well.
“See clearly what happens to those who cross this bridge!”
As the sword swung wildly, people ceased to be people before it. They were nothing more than chunks of meat. Frankly, it was a horrific sight.
As Valerie carved through the enemy and broke through them, the rear ranks did not even know what was happening. They were almost defenseless against Valerie when he suddenly appeared among them.
In an instant, the ground was soaked in blood and covered with severed limbs and corpses. A single misstep could send someone falling below. More than one or two soldiers fell from the bridge.
After cutting them down without restraint for a while, Valerie hurried back before he misstepped himself or the enemy pushed him back with their weight.
He was drenched in blood from head to toe, and people hurriedly blocked the bridge again.
Perhaps because this was a world where criminals were publicly executed in city squares, the spectators applauded even after witnessing such a dreadful sight. It was truly thunderous applause.
Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap!
“Waaah...”
“Long live the dragon-slayer!”
Though it was not entertainment, it was being treated somewhat like entertainment.
But it was never entertainment to Count Gareth. He would have to count the dead to know exactly how many soldiers had been killed, but only after seeing it with his own eyes did he realize.
“Is that not a demon rather than a man? It seems he did not kill a dragon for nothing. Hmm, it does not seem we should cross the bridge...”
Count Gareth decided to withdraw his forces. That did not mean he had given up.
In truth, this did not even qualify as a skirmish. Perhaps the real war had not even begun yet. Valerie knew that well.
And as the troops withdrew from the bridge, the first snow fell. Winter had come. A harsh winter for enemy and ally alike.
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