The Weakest of the Four Heavenly Kings, Desuwa
That man is the weakest of the Four Heavenly Kings, desuwa!
……………
As the commotion in the square slowly began to die down, a low murmur rose from the direction of the Sergen delegation, and before long a few of them edged warily toward the fallen Volgar.
A moment later, his eyelids twitched, and he opened his eyes at last. His unfocused gaze wandered the empty air for a moment before slowly sharpening into clarity.
He looked around in visible confusion, and as the truth of his position dawned on him, a flash of rage crossed his face.
"What… what happened to me?"
His voice, worn hoarse, carried a heavy note of disbelief. One of the Sergen delegation drew close and whispered into his ear. Volgar's expression shifted several times in quick succession.
After a while, as though he had mastered his emotions, he spoke slowly.
"Daughter of Eisenmark. With this, my vengeance for my brother Droga is concluded."
He rose from the ground, picked up a fresh axe, and slung it across his back.
"But the Unifier's demand still stands. Do not think that because you have felled me, the strength of Sergen is a trifling thing. I am the weakest among the Unifier's high warriors."
'So this is the "I am the weakest of the Four Heavenly Kings" speech, huh….'
Evidently, the parting words of the defeated sounded much the same in any world. Still, I composed my expression and produced a polished diplomatic smile.
"Volgar. Today's duel was a matter of the grudge between Cormac and Droga. As the victor of that duel, I hereby declare that Cormac's life shall be preserved."
Everyone in the square hung on my words. I steeled my voice and continued.
"Furthermore, there is one more matter I wish to settle regarding the Unifier's demand."
"Before the duel, I did express a 'personal' opinion. However, that was nothing more than a provisional answer, delivered in my capacity as interim regent of Eisenfels. In the end, I am merely a deputy who governs the direct domains until my lord father returns. The final authority over a decision of such gravity rests with one person alone — my father, His Grace the Grand Duke of Eisenmark."
This was, in other words, classic bureaucratic buck-passing.
On the surface it might have looked cowardly, but this approach carried considerable advantages.
First, by not making a diplomatic decision on my own authority, I avoided any threat to my father's prestige. Rummaging through Katerina's memories, I found no real history of conflict between father and daughter — but even so, it would be unwise to be seen encroaching upon the authority of a Grand Duke still very much in his prime.
Second, it kept me from appearing frightened of the Sergens. In the north, where the martial spirit ran fierce and strength was worshipped above all else, this mattered enormously. Once a reputation for cowardice took root, it was devilishly hard to shake, and it would deal a devastating blow to one's ability to lead. That outcome had to be avoided at all costs.
Third, it bought time to deal with the pressure from Sergen and the Unifier Kurgan. Facing a conqueror who had only just unified the tribes without any preparation was madness; keeping a few cards up one's sleeve was far wiser.
Truly, one stone, three birds. This was the best response available to me.
Volgar's eyes narrowed. A man chosen to lead an entire delegation could apparently see straight through my deft evasion of responsibility.
"First you play at refusing, and now you claim you lack the authority? The Unifier will not be fooled by such shallow tricks."
"I am merely stating the facts. My lord father shall return before long; send the Unifier's envoy again then, and you will receive our formal answer."
"You are stalling for time."
"You may see it that way, I suppose. But this is a momentous decision — one that will determine the fate of a nation. I trust the Unifier will understand that perfectly well."
A stir rippled through the Sergen delegation. Volgar glared at me for a long moment, and then abruptly let out a booming laugh.
"Fine. It shall be as you say. Perhaps the Unifier will find the Daughter of Eisenmark intriguing after all."
"But she does not wait long, nor does she suffer delay. You cannot drag things out with wordplay and postponement forever."
"My thanks. The moment my father returns, I shall convey the Unifier's demand to him. You may expect a suitable answer."
"We will meet again, Daughter of Eisenmark."
Volgar cast one last piercing look my way. And the instant his final words left his lips, the Sergen delegation swept out of the square.
Only after they had vanished completely from sight did a collective sigh of relief escape the crowd.
"My lady, that was a masterful response, truly."
Woldin came to my side.
"I merely bought us time. The Sergens will return without fail — so we must be ready."
Bielka came running to stand at my side, and Eliza quietly drew near as well.
"Lady Katerina, it is time for you to return to the citadel."
At Eliza's words, I nodded.
……………
I am Mikhail, of the Eisenfels city guard. I was born and raised in the poor commoners' quarter of the Lower City, and I enlisted in the guard the year I turned sixteen.
I didn't want to grow old the way my father the day-laborer had — with a bent back and hands cracked open like dry earth. Looking back now, it was a naive reason, but that was the whole of why I joined the Eisenfels city guard.
It was hard at first. Training ground us into the dirt from dawn to dusk, and the senior men's hazing was no joke. Well — a year on now, it's eased up a little.
The Eisenfels guard is full of every kind of man there is, but among them, Sergeant Cormac was the one truly worth looking up to. I still think so today.
He was, as far as I know, the finest warrior we had in the guard. His swordsmanship ranked among the very best even of the elites who get seconded out beyond our walls, and he had a record of actually fighting and beating Sergen raiders.
But that day… when the Sergen delegation entered the square, a bad feeling crept over me.
They strutted like conquerors come to occupy our city. Their leader especially — Volgar. The man was simply enormous. He looked like he weighed as much as two of our guardsmen put together.
Even so, I believed Sergeant Cormac would win. In training, almost no one could stand against him. I learned a great deal from the man myself, and in all my time sparring with him I never once landed a solid hit.
The duel began, and the Sergeant fought well in the early going. He evaded that monstrous axe of Volgar's and opened a gash on his arm — drew first blood, even.
But… the barbarian's strength was beyond anything we had imagined. Beneath that terrifying, howling assault, the Sergeant's shield shattered like glass. When I saw him go down, a deep wound carved across his face… I simply could not believe my eyes.
When Volgar moved to behead the fallen Sergeant Cormac, my body moved on its own. There was no time to think. I only thought that someone had to step forward. That someone had to save him — save our comrade.
'I will defend Sergeant Cormac's honor!'
Looking back now, it was the single stupidest thing I have ever done. What chance did I have against a giant who had beaten Sergeant Cormac so easily? But in that moment, courage — sheer reckless valor — flooded through me. Call it foolhardiness, if you like.
My brief clash with Volgar — calling it a "clash" embarrasses me, honestly.
I lasted all of three exchanges. Then his headbutt caught me square in the face. It felt like having a brick swung into my skull.
And so I lay sprawled on the ground — and the truth is… I could have gotten up. If I'd tried, I could have stood.
But my will to fight was utterly broken. The shame of being beaten into the dirt before everyone, and the terror of Volgar. So I simply gave up resisting and lay there, pretending I couldn't move.
As I lay there, Volgar's voice thundered against my ears.
"Have you seen it, you weak farmers of the south? THIS is the power of a Sergen warrior!"
"VOLGAR! VOLGAR! VOLGAR!"
As the Sergens roared their cheers at his voice, our side froze solid. All of us.
It was then, blinking my eyes open and scanning the faces around me, that I finally understood — understood the fear and the fury written across every one of them.
That was it. The fear of Volgar and the Sergens wasn't living inside me alone. It had already spread through all of Eisenfels, down into the deepest corners of every heart in the city.
Half-blinded, I watched Volgar heft his axe, thinking it was all over. But at that very moment…
What happened next, every soul in Eisenfels will remember for the rest of their lives.
Volgar's massive axe stopped in midair. As if it had struck an invisible wall.
No — not a wall. A hand was gripping that dreadful blade. A hand in a steel gauntlet had caught the axe's edge bare-palmed and brought it to a dead halt.
It was Her Ladyship, the Grand Duke's daughter — Katerina of Eisenmark.
"I cannot permit you to take my retainer's head here."
To me — lying beaten and broken on the ground — Her Ladyship looked for all the world like a valkyrie, a warrior maiden of myth descended from the heavens themselves.
What came next was harder still to believe. Her Ladyship merely clenched her hand, and Volgar's axe began to crumple. Hardened steel folded like paper, losing its shape bit by bit.
Stripped of his weapon by a bare hand, Volgar's face twisted with rage. But deep in his eyes, I could see it seeping in — the very same emotion he had planted in us.
Fear.