218. People Dancing in the Meadow (4).
218. People Dancing in the Meadow (4).
A battle cry was a spell. It was the will to lean my body at least in the direction I desired, even while my entire body was bound by constraints.
"Yiaaaaa!"
Seasoned warriors let out battle cries with practiced skill, steering bodies that seldom moved as they wished. Extreme tension and terror. It was a human instinct for overcoming the extreme conditions the battlefield imposed.
[Fwoong— Pusheok! Seogeok!]
But even if my body moved exactly as I wanted in battle, it didn't mean I was guaranteed to survive. If luck wasn't on my side, I died; if luck favored me, I lived. The gap between life and death was not, in truth, bridged by skill as much as one might think.
[Hwiiing— Pusheok!]
"Agh!"
Especially if you stood before my fiercely swinging sword—your skill truly held no relevance whatsoever.
[Fwoong— Seogeok! Chwahak—!]
"Gek—"
"Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!"
"Th-that—"
The massive sword Randi had forged had not developed so much as a single fine nick on its blade since its creation.
At first, I simply thought the meteoric iron that fell from the sky was an even better material than I had imagined. But when I saw a scratch appear on it while Björn and Ivar, reminded of their younger days upon receiving my gift, sparred together, my thinking changed.
[Fwoong— Pusheok!]
The arc of the sword I brought down with all my strength left a vivid green afterimage in my vision, but judging by the expression of the enemy screaming beneath it alongside his split shield, he was filled with terror as though face to face with a thunderbolt.
Like a thunderbolt and thunder. Now the sword I swung made its sound heard only after it had already passed.
Before such power and speed, before such a clean attack, whether it was steel or wood, or the muscles, sinews, blood vessels, and bones of men—none of it had any special recourse. They simply split along the line I cut down.
[Chwahak—]
"Aaaaagh—!"
The sight of sturdy wooden shields and chainmail made for blocking swords melting all at once, like ice before steel heated in a blazing fire—
Those on the receiving end could not comprehend it, and even I on the swinging end found it difficult to comprehend. I only dimly understood that my own realm had risen one step higher.
In the past, I had left everything to instinct like a beast and savagely tore into the enemy, but now I moved twice as fast as my foes and thought three times faster, becoming something akin to a judge who mutely pronounced an already-decided death sentence.
Take, for example, this warrior's thrust.
"Yaaaaaa—!"
It was a coldly composed attack, utterly undeterred by the death and blood of the comrade who had been split in half beside him mere seconds earlier. He aimed precisely for the moment I swung my sword, and his target as he thrust in was neither my head nor my heart but my armpit on the Örn side. He did not even let his ambition grow that large.
It might look like a trifle, but it was precisely these details that constituted the experience and ability that could only be gained by rolling through years of blood-spattered, grueling battle.
It was a proper attack, but such things could no longer be called a threat to me.
"—Yaaaa!"
[Pusheok!]
Why should I be obliged to stand there and take a spearhead that came thrusting in, slowly and leisurely taking its whole age?
If I spun my body like a top and brought the sword down with all my might, my greatsword would already have split the chainmail and the skin beneath it of the spearman who had closed half the distance, then slipped back out into the empty air.
[Chwahak— Teolsseok!]
Then the fine Frankish warrior who had thrown a thrust with all his soul's strength would lay his heavy body down along the direction of the sword's swing and ponder what exactly had just happened to him.
[Jjuk— Jjuk— Jureureuk—]
From his chest, a long stream of blood would shoot up like a squirt gun, and beyond his slowly fading consciousness, he would contemplate the thunderbolt he had faced. And then, next came death.
"Sss— Hoo—!"
I had swung it scores of times thus far, so scores of men must have faced death.
I had the strength to swing it thousands of times more in the future, so thousands more would yet face death.
Sensing a power that felt as though it could accomplish anything, I expanded my senses. I imprisoned all the Frankish warriors surrounding me on every side in a prison of terror that even a warrior's battle cry could no longer break. I elevated my hearing, smell, and sight, drinking in every scrap of information from my surroundings.
Then my brain, now functioning abnormally beyond mere cleverness, informed me of the surrounding situation in detail, like the minimap of some game. Bremen's walls were holding but precarious. The enemy's offensive was concentrated on Bremen. The enemy's riverside defense line had begun collapsing all at once due to my charge.
Reserves were on the move from the enemy's rear. Enemy cavalry movement detected.
'Their heading—toward where I am.'
An astute response. I would have done the same. The enemy commander responded to this commotion by the riverside with gravity, holding his position in the rear—truly, his ability was outstanding.
I would show them I was no less capable.
"Iva—r! Enemy cavalry!"
At my voice, which boomed like thunder, the movements of my warriors, who had been running hard, grew even more urgent.
Now slashing and axework were all but abandoned; my warriors shoved the fleeing enemy aside with their bodies as they drew near me. From among them, Ivar appeared, his helmet pulled down low, and together with Seutorolpeu he formed a shield wall.
"Align your shoulder line! Do not jut out! He who retreats is a coward! And a coward cannot stand beside the Fylkir!"
"Valhalla and Hel sing! Today is a day of blessing! This is a sacred battlefield! Fulfill your appointed duty!"
Having been the goddess of death from the beginning, Goddess Hel possessed a profoundly heavy presence, quite unlike the familiar and close Thor, Odin, or Tyr. By now she had become something that encompassed death, war, and fertility, even threatening Odin and Valhalla's station on the battlefield itself.
At the exhortations of Ivar and Seutorolpeu, Hel's symbol rippled over the warriors' chainmail, flashing beneath blood and river water, mud and sunlight. Before the shield wall of my warriors, who guarded their front and heads with great shields, the distinctive vibrating, heavy rumble of cavalry could be felt.
I had crossed over aboard ten new-model longships precisely because I had not known we would be fighting on this scale. Had I known it would be like this, I would have brought cavalry too!
But when fighting a great battle, one ought rather to be suspicious if things proceed according to plan. Would I not simply have to make do with improvisation this time as well?
"Not good at all! Valhalla's hall will be quite crowded tonight! Helgi! Uah-hahaha!"
[Kung! Kung! Kung!]
His eyes, already heavily steeped in blood and most thoroughly sated, gleamed a bright blue. My second brother lit up a radiant smile that not even his face-guard could bear to conceal.
At the same time, along with his hearty laugh, he rhythmically struck his great shield.
At that sound, like the drumbeat of a priest, my warriors responded in unison, striking their shields together to lure the Valkyries that must be circling the sky above this battlefield.
[Don! Don! Don!]
[Dugu-dugu-dugu-]
"I am ready! Come on, you bastards!"
"You come looking for your place to die!"
"You lazy wretches! Run faster!"
With the tremors drawing ever closer, the warriors' breathing grew harsher. Blood rushed to their heads, and they thrilled before the death and destruction soon to come for someone.
Yet all of this was now a strange feeling and a distant heart to me.
It seemed I had grown a step further in observing the battlefield, just as much as in my sharpened sword-strokes.
"Sto-rolf! Give me a spear!"
"Yes! Fylkir!"
[Teop-]
The spear I received from Stórolf was made of fine wood well-shaped enough to be wielded with both hands.
If five hundred-odd warriors hid behind their shields and raised these in unison, any heavy cavalry short of the utterly insane would have to slow their speed and, using the height advantage of sitting on horseback, attempt close-quarters combat as the standard course.
Those East Frankish horsemen would likely do just that, and then, however well I and my warriors fought, according to the law of nature that a strike from above is stronger than one from below, it would be a hard fight.
"Ivar. Today the Valkyries will suffer Odin's scolding, and Hel will send me a satisfied smile."
[Chareureuk-]
'Hoooh—'
Beyond the vivid sensation at my toes, I felt the vibrations drawing ever nearer. I straightened my crouched back and twirled Stórolf's spear in my palm, gauging its weight.
A conventional fight would have flowed as I expected.
But I was an unconventional man, a mutant in which a soul from the 21st century had entered a monster of the 9th.
You could never defeat me.
[Tat- Tatat!]
"Hoo- hoo- euryeop!"
[Peong-! Fweeeeee-!]
With a sound that tore the sky, the great spear flew like a beam of light, spinning ferociously, twisting its whole body to overcome nature's resistance.
[Shwaaaack- - Kwaaang!!! Ak! Aaak! I-hi-hing-! Pureureuk!]
It pierced through the head of the enemy cavalry rushing headlong across the low hills toward the Weser River, passing through six more horse-and-rider before finally touching the ground.
[Aaaak- euaaak-! Urrreuk- i-hi-hi-hing-! Wheel! Wheel!]
In an instant, horses and men tripped over each other, fell, and collapsed. As if struck by a cannonball, the corpses pierced by my javelin died instantly and became obstacles on the spot, and the enemy cavalry, which had just been gathering momentum and speed before a furious charge, crumbled all at once like a landslide and split into two branches.
"Stórolf!"
"Yes!"
By now, we were of one mind; Stórolf, understanding my intent, hurriedly handed me a long spear, and I immediately threw the spear toward the enemy cavalry that was closing in from both divided sides.
[Hooouuung-! Hooong-! Shwaaaaaaack-!]
Kwaang! Peopeong!
Following the sound that ripped the air, the ranks of the enemy cavalry collapsed once more with the sound of something bursting.
The East Frankish cavalry had evaded the first disaster with quick improvisation, but they lost their speed because they could not remove the root cause.
"My warriors! Brothers of Garmr!"
After overturning the flow with just three javelin throws, I shouted, holding my greatsword again in hand.
"Do not fear! Follow my back! Kill them all!"
"Kill every last one of them!"
"Hel!!!"
"Yaaaa!"
On the fresh-blue banner Stórolf raised high, Hel's face fluttered in its center.
Beneath it, men cried out the name of the death goddess with all their might, as if they cared not if they vomited blood, and they spurred themselves off the hills and ran.
At their very front, my sword, having run fastest, mercilessly tore through the East Frankish cavalry, who were still falling, pinned, and howling in confusion.
"Come down! You insolent wretch!"
"Aaaak-!"
[I-hi-hi-hi-hing!]
[Puk! Puk! Puk!]
"Euryaaaah-!"
[Hwik- Kung!]
The moment my third sword-stroke was unleashed, my warriors stormed in and immediately dragged the Frankish warriors from their saddles, stabbed them where they lay, and threw their own bodies to crash onto the ground together, sowing chaos in every part of the long-stretched line.
From the center, my sword-strokes pushed in like a machine, and they began to punch through the Frankish cavalry that stood dumbly as if gored by a wild boar.
"Hahahaha! Is this all?! I said, is this all! Do not forget! Frankish warriors! What you face is Helgi Ragnarsson!"
Meanwhile, my bodyguard, including Ivar, mounted the saddles of the masterless, howling Frankish warhorses and struck down with sword and axe left and right, pouring oil onto the blazing chaos.
While I briefly watched Ivar's sharply curved blade dance this way and that, I felt the enemy's assault halt and their ranks pull back.
The charge I and my bodyguard had launched from the riverbank had easily shattered their arrogant defensive line and sliced down at least a good half of their precious cavalry strength.
A commander of sound mind would have no choice but to withdraw.
However, having broken some sort of wall while commanding this war, I had no wish to let them go like this.
'Commander of East Frankia. Play with me a little longer. Surely the time we've met is far too short to part like this?'
I had seen the face of the West Frankish emperor, so I might as well see the face of the East Frankish emperor too.
To do that, I had to smash them thoroughly.
"Sto-rolf! Blow the horn with all your might! Brothers! Mount whatever horse you like! Signal the fortress of Bremen! Hunt down every last straggling enemy of East Frankia!"
"Aoh-oooooooo!"
"Hel!!!"
"Odin!"
"Fylkir!! Sterk!! Fylkir!"
[Buuuuuuuuuuung-!]
I immediately trampled over the fallen and leapt onto the saddle of a nameless brown horse, gripping the waist of the horse, which had startled and was about to rear, tightly until it became docile.
"Let us go!"
[I-hi-hi-hing! Pureureuk! Pureuk!]
At my command, I spurred it on with force, and the horse galloped off, cleaving the wind. The wavering enemy ranks and all gazes fixed upon me.
Yet still, I felt not the slightest fear.