Ch.9494. Brynhild

I lost.

Without any room for excuses, I was utterly defeated.

Brynhild’s hands trembled with helplessness and a profound sense of defeat.

Her spirit, which had never surrendered despite countless hardships and trials, finally broke at this crucial moment when she was responsible for her tribe’s future.

To her, defeat had never held much significance.

Defeat was merely a stepping stone to move forward, not an obstacle blocking her path.

The numerous defeats she had experienced even before becoming a great warrior only served to make Brynhild stronger, carrying no deeper meaning beyond that.

But this time was different.

For the first time in her life, she faced a wall she simply couldn’t overcome.

A wall that remained insurmountable despite employing every means at her disposal.

Gilbert Lion Heart.

The imperial warrior she had no choice but to acknowledge was that very insurmountable wall.

Only after experiencing this painful defeat did she realize how much she had been like a frog in a well.

Their talents differed, as did their accumulated experiences and achievements.

Even her much-vaunted intuition had proven completely ineffective against him.

No, that wasn’t quite right—her intuition had worked.

It had been remarkably accurate, in fact.

This was the result of ignoring her intuition that had painfully warned her to flee without hesitation.

Brynhild bit her lip hard.

Blood trickled down with a stinging pain, but that didn’t change the outcome.

She had lost in the Volsung Saga, a tradition nearly forgotten even among her own people.

According to their covenant, as the defeated party, she was bound to obey whatever Gilbert, the victor, commanded.

This was a ritual that staked both honor and soul, and had to be upheld no matter what.

Brynhild didn’t even think to wipe away the blood trickling from her mouth as she opened the cockpit door and stepped outside.

Ironically, the sky above was brilliantly blue and clear.

Ancestor Sigurd, is this truly the price of my arrogance?

She lamented, squinting against the dazzling sunlight.

“As witness to the Volsung Saga, I, Brynhild Vanir, Great Warrior of the Sigurd Tribal Alliance, acknowledge my defeat to Gilbert Lion Heart, Shield of the Empire.”

Her teeth clenched involuntarily, but the defeated had no right to speak further.

She couldn’t bring herself to look back at the tribal alliance warriors, too ashamed to face them.

What thoughts must be going through their minds as they looked at her?

The mere thought sent chills down her spine.

*Hiss!*

The cockpit of the giant mech that had driven her to the edge opened.

Brynhild struggled to raise her head to look at the imperial warrior who had handed her defeat.

“According to the covenant of the Volsung Saga, I, the defeated, must fulfill Gilbert’s request without fail, whatever it may be. Speak.”

Even if it was a covenant with an imperial, she could not refuse.

The covenant of the saga was something that had to be upheld under any circumstances.

Her own will was irrelevant in this matter.

That was the nature of the saga’s covenant.

Brynhild gritted her teeth as she waited for Gilbert’s words. Even knowing there was no turning back, she couldn’t stop blaming herself for her defeat.

“I make my request to Brynhild, Great Warrior of Sigurd.”

“Have you decided? Speak, whatever it may be.”

Don’t say it! Don’t command me to betray my tribe!

Brynhild glared fiercely.

Even though it was a futile hope, she couldn’t bear it otherwise.

“Help forge a peace treaty between the Sigurd Tribal Alliance and the Empire with all your might. I stake my life as the current highest authority, Gilbert Lion Heart, on this declaration.”

“What did you say?”

Brynhild’s eyes widened in shock at his unexpected words.

Simultaneously, a faint light briefly enveloped both her and Gilbert before disappearing.

This signified that the covenant had been established.

“What are you saying? Don’t deceive me!”

“Deception? Can there be deception in a covenant staked on one’s life?”

Brynhild closed her mouth, unable to respond to Gilbert’s emotionless question.

He was right.

Gilbert had deliberately bound his own life to the covenant.

The Volsung Saga covenant was rooted in ancient verbal magic. The spoken words bound the soul, allowing no exceptions.

That’s why Brynhild couldn’t understand the man before her.

Despite risking his life in the Volsung Saga, he had inexplicably made a declaration that offered him no personal gain.

Brynhild’s mind became a tangle of confusion.

Unable to guess his intentions, her bewilderment only grew.

“Why? You must have known I couldn’t refuse even if you ordered me to betray the tribal alliance.”

“Avoiding war is always the best strategy. Must I teach you such basics?”

“Can you make such a covenant knowing the bitter history between us and the Empire? Or are you some kind of idealist? Even if forcibly joined, broken vessels don’t truly mend. After our attacks on the Empire, nothing remains but war. Only two choices exist: victor or vanquished!”

“In war, there are neither victors nor vanquished. Honorable battle? Glorious war? All nothing but bullshit.”

“Are you trying to insult me?”

“Great Warrior of Sigurd, do not misunderstand.”

Gilbert’s blood-red eyes glared fiercely at Brynhild.

Those were the eyes of a warrior who had crossed countless battle lines.

“War is nothing but a scene of slaughter, the very center of hell. Do not beautify war.”

Brynhild lost all words of rebuttal she had prepared.

His statement that war has neither victors nor vanquished.

The gaze that seemed to reproach her.

The inexplicable suffering embedded within it.

All of it pierced Brynhild’s heart.

Gilbert’s words penetrated the essence of war—a truth impossible to refute.

He was right.

War is just war, no matter what flowery words are attached to it.

Brynhild suddenly felt as if her shoulders had become heavier.

Despite knowing nothing was there, she glanced at her shoulder.

Indeed, nothing visible rested upon it.

Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of overwhelming weight.

Then she suddenly realized:

It was the weight of Gilbert’s words pressing down on her shoulders.

***

Perhaps I got too emotional.

Gilbert heaved a deep sigh.

The saga route he had sought utilized the trust generated by the saga’s covenant.

The Volsung Saga, infused with elements of ancient verbal magic, formed covenants based on spoken conditions.

Gilbert had aimed for this advantage in tactical combat.

He achieved the “zero unit loss” accomplishment with a simple strategy: showing sincerity through a life-staked covenant and ending the war through a peace treaty.

Of course, whether it would work properly in this world that had become reality remained uncertain, but it was a better choice than mindlessly waging war.

Though his words came out harshly due to getting too emotionally invested, he had no regrets.

After all, it was true that war should never be glorified.

“Why? Didn’t your Empire hate us?”

Brynhild asked, her expression seemingly troubled.

Fortunately, his intention seemed to have been well-received.

“I hate war, nothing more.”

“I see…”

Brynhild lowered her head, apparently deep in thought.

With her face hidden, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

But Gilbert wasn’t particularly worried.

The Brynhild he knew wouldn’t have responded this much to words that weren’t worth considering.

“Very well, Imperial Warrior Gilbert. Following the covenant, I accept your request.”

Good.

Only then did Gilbert breathe a sigh of relief.

If she had refused, there would have been nothing he could do.

They would have simply repeated the cycle of killing and dying in war.

Gilbert smiled privately.

[Danger, Lord Gilbert!]

At that moment, Fermo’s urgent voice came through the communication magic connected to the cockpit interior.

[Die, you filthy imperial dog!]

Simultaneously with Fermo’s urgent warning, one of the Sigurd Tribal Alliance warriors shouted through the general communication magic.

With a crackling sound, light flashed.

It was Lightning Spear, the fastest-activating magic armament among the lightning-type magical weapons Gilbert had used.

The magic that tore through the air instantly struck Gilbert.

*BOOM!*

***

Acrid dust rose, obscuring the giant mech. Though only a single shot was fired, it was a magical armament.

The power of that one shot could easily erase a person.

Fermo gritted his teeth and shouted at the top of his lungs.

[All units! Prepare for battle!]

[Battle stations!]

The giant mechs that had been quietly lined up behind Gilbert drew their weapons, ready to charge at any moment.

The Sigurd Tribal Alliance likewise drew their main armaments to counterattack.

“Which bastard did that?!”

Brynhild couldn’t believe that a warrior had impulsively attacked despite hearing the honorable results of the Volsung Saga.

Gilbert had tried to present a path for coexistence between the tribal alliance and the Empire.

Perhaps he could have somewhat resolved the long-standing bitterness between them, but that opportunity had been kicked away.

Moreover, Gilbert had opened his cockpit and come out personally to make that proposal.

To respond to such a show of trust with a magical attack—Brynhild ground her teeth in fury.

She hastily opened her cockpit and climbed aboard Fafnir.

Once again biting her lip until it hurt, Brynhild raised her giant mech and positioned it between the two factions.

War absolutely could not break out now.

She had to prevent that at all costs.

Brynhild gripped the control levers so tightly they might break.