Residents of the Sacred Land
Thanks to Helga grandma, we'd slaughtered the super cowards trying to flee this time. But watching them abandon their men and charge back in a desperate last stand all on their own—my rage just wouldn't settle!
"Well, the sea spirits exceptionally lent us a hand this time, didn't they?"
"No, still, grandma—that marquis bastard should've gotten the blood eagle at least!"
"My grandson, I get your anger. The Empire these days... tsk tsk tsk...."
"It's such a shame those super cowards actually get to go to heaven. What a pity."
Grumbling about the gods and the Empire with grandma, we trudged across the frozen sea for who knows how long. Far off, the coastline came into view. The Nords spotted us and erupted in massive cheers. As if expecting something, they all started pounding their shields in unison.
Thung thung thung!!
"No way, this is..."
"Hahahaha! Son! You're back!"
"Father?"
Jarls and Father approached from afar.
"Jehahaha! Ulfrik! You handled those cowards alright?"
"Don't worry, with Helga grandma, we tore 'em apart, Riman."
"So the war's over then."
"Well, more than that—"
Thung thung thung!!!
"Son, everyone's waiting right now~!"
"Wait, I have to do the victory declaration too?"
"Of course! It's the army you raised!"
"Hohohoho, grandson... you embarrassed?"
Grandma Helga's "chicken?" jab made my head ring. Fine, experience is experience. Under the approving gazes of all the jarls, I strode confidently to the warriors.
I struck my shield with Mjolnir.
Thung!!!
"In the name of the Nords, I declare! Today we tore the cowards apart and burned our enemies with honor!"
"""Ha!"""
"Warriors!! This glory is ours—all of us who seized it with blood and steel!"
"""For glory!! For the Sacred Land!!"""
We Nords had won the war!!!
Waaaaaaaaah!!!
The cheers of victory echoed across the entire coastline.
With my victory declaration, postwar cleanup began. But... no prisoners?
"The rage of those whose clans were destroyed by the Empire's army was beyond imagination."
"Yeah... it was righteous vengeance, so we couldn't stop them."
"Tch, still, this might be better for them in the end."
Defeated in the invasion they started, becoming slaves—what miserable fate awaited? Something unspeakable.
"Better to die clean with honor than cling to life like cowards."
"Yeah... you're right a hundred times over, son."
"Mm mm!! Honor matters, kid."
As we clicked our tongues at the knightesses' corpses littering the streets, shamans including Helga grandma stepped up—too many bodies. Soon, our own Nord warriors appeared among them.
"...Blood feuds like this can only end this way."
"Some still thirst for more blood."
"Those guys'll hop on longships and raid the Empire soon enough."
In the war's late stages, shamans intervened and healed everyone. But the Empire knights were no pushovers, so casualties were heavy.
"Son, you'll see scenes like this plenty from now on. Steel yourself."
"Of course. Or... we train our warriors harder."
"Jehahaha! That's my warrior!!"
Father and Riman chuckled, of course. The other jarls looked bittersweet at the fallen, but seemed satisfied with how much tougher the MZ warriors had gotten.
Cleanup dragged into night. Shamans swiftly disposed of Empire corpses. Then came the mass funeral for Nord warriors.
I got why Helga grandma led it, but why the Black Raven Tribe? Father and Riman cleared it up.
"The Black Raven Tribe guards our ancestors' tombs."
"In a word, gravekeepers."
"Ah, so that's..."
"Anyway, it's starting now."
These warriors died defending the Sacred Land, so they got the highest Nord honors. Shamans crafted tiny wooden boats in seconds, loading the departed.
One by one, boats floated on the sea. Like ancestors welcoming kin, green auroras rippled across the starry sky.
In that majestic scene, we all held silent vigil. Then Black Raven archers nocked flaming arrows, red trails slashing the night.
Flames hit water; boats ignited one by one. But something astonishing unfolded.
Blue spirits rose from burning boats to the heavens. Leading the rite, Helga grandma smiled bittersweetly.
"The children who fell in this glorious battle can now stand tall beside the ancestors."
"""………"""
"So don't grieve—bless them."
A cold, harsh place. But this was the true reward for Sacred Land dwellers.
Ulfrik and the young warriors witnessed the Sacred Land's miracle, and funerals for the departed ended. But endless mourning burdens the gone.
"Drink!!!"
"Pour!!"
"Kya~ that's the stuff!"
The Nord funeral feast kicked off. All raised cups to the fallen, offering condolences.
Old folks shouldn't crash the young warriors' fun, right? All jarls and Helga set up their own spot nearby.
Started light, but with big shots gathered, politics flowed.
"Ragna, about your tribe this time..."
"I know. Too many now?"
"Your son's hard work earned it fair and square—no complaints."
The already mighty Bear Claw Tribe grew stronger. Now top 4, not 3.
"But who cares about that?"
"Jehahaha! Fame's never enough!!"
"Ragna, declare it when we acknowledge."
"Tch, fine fine. More importantly, what about that dispatch plan?"
"The one from last Thing?"
Last Viking council agreed to send other tribes' warriors to Bear Claw. Ragna pushed to accelerate.
"Young warriors seem sobered by this fight—perfect timing."
"One more time: Ragna, you sure?"
"Hahahaha! Send 'em—no worries!"
"Heh heh, that's why Ragna's popular."
Other jarls smirked at Ragna's "steal our secrets and tech" openness. Booze flowed; inevitable topic arose.
"Hey, know what my son snagged?"
"Hohohoho, our grandson worked hard."
"Never thought that rune hammer was real..."
The thunder-calling rune hammer. First king's treasure—now Ulfrik's.
Ragna asked jarls to back Ulfrik.
"Great shaman gave the tip first. That young Drengg proved himself."
"Worthy of the rune hammer."
"Plus, idiot says it rejects everyone but owner now."
"Hey! 'Idiot'? You raven punk—"
"Now now, no fighting here with Helga watching."
Brief scuffle, but jarls agreed. Issue remained.
"Dragon Horn Tribe'll bitch no matter what..."
"Ignore the weaklings. But what're they even doing?"
"Now that you mention... no sign of 'em?"
Huge battle, yet royal Dragon Horn Tribe did nothing odd.
"Ho, did we beat 'em too hard last time?"
"Ahem... if Dragon Horn vanishes, that's trouble..."
"Should we prop 'em up?"
Once top-tier like the big 3, but rebel jarls weakened them. As we concluded they sat out, Helga laughed truth out.
"One Black Raven heeding ancestors blinded the dragon's eyes and ears."
"What, Leydal... you did it."
"No way, shooting arrows mid-air on the way here for that?!"
"Tch..."
Leydal, under stares, silently downed his cup. Jarls chuckled.
"Heh heh, still shy."
"Pfft, yeah."
"Jehahaha! Total opposite of his looks!"
"Shut it."
"""Hahahahaha!!"""
Laughing jarls noticed feast quieted. Checking, Ulfrik was toasting.
"Remember the fallen warriors' names!"
"""Ha!!"""
"Fill your cups with their honor!!"
"""For the honor of the departed!"""
Waaaaaaaaah!!!
Zeal and spirit filled the hall, beyond youth.
"Used to worry plenty, but they're our kids alright."
"Better than us, even?"
"Honestly, without that Ulfrik warrior, we wouldn't be this united."
"Jehahaha! We're the old fogeys!!"
Jarls beamed at young warriors; Helga spoke.
"For our descendants' better path, we keep striving."
"Of course, Great Shaman."
"Their growth excites me."
The elders prepared the way for future generations.