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Being a Viking Isn’t Fun – Chapter 31

.。.:✧ Chapter 31✧:.。.

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Shio
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866 AD, the fourth month of summer, Alt Clut, Strathclyde.

Two enormous rocks stood shoulder to shoulder. Where these rocks met in the gorge, forming an island shaped like the two humps of a Bactrian camel, a man-made structure boldly revealed itself, blocking the flow of water.

“They got away again this time, they did. These stubborn ones.”

The people of Strathclyde, the mountain kingdom along the River Clyde, or Alt Clut, the rock kingdom named after those massive rocks, were as tough, obstinate, and unrelenting in surrender as their relatives and neighbors in the Kingdom of Alba.

And that was, as if,

‘Similar to us.’

Since their nature resembled that of the Norsemen, they deserved respect as warriors.

Standing in the middle of summer, already more than half gone, the renowned raider Olaf the White thought:

‘Is it not yet time? Aella and Osberht of Northumbria fell too quickly. I expected them to hold out for at least another year…’

According to plan, they should have burned and plundered all of Strathclyde, weakened by the withdrawal of troops… but their return was too fast.

Then the news from Northumbria was all astonishing.

A dragon appeared in the sky, and Ragnar Sigurdsson’s sons discovered his remains. Even Helgi Ragnarsson, called the ‘Konungr of all Norsemen’.

‘Konungr of all Norsemen…?’

Normally, he would have laughed it off, thinking it was another fearless youngster putting an ill-fitting large crown on his head…

‘I should bring gifts for the Konungr.’

But this time was a bit different.

If the rumors were true, all of Ragnar’s sons had stood under one man’s banner. Was such a thing really possible? A complete inheritance of power?

It was both surprising and frightening, but no one in the North Sea could face this new Konungr of the Norsemen right now.

“Thorstein! Turn the ship’s prow, we’ll let those fools stuck in the rocks go.”

“Understood! Father! Everyone turn the ships around!”

Having captured enough slaves sailing up the River Clyde to be quite satisfied, they would select the best ones for gifts and sell the rest to the greedy Konungrs above and below Dublin.

‘I will return soon, Alt Clut. And…’

Causantín mac Cináeda, the king of the Scots and Picts.

He would plunder and burn all of that one’s land. Upon those ashes, he would build the kingdom of Olaf the White.

The tireless old warrior could already hear the screams of wailing women in his ears.

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The emergence of a new king uniting Scandinavia and the British Isles caused great ripples in the waves of the world. Waves that had not yet been strongly felt in faraway places but had clearly changed the course of history.

Of course, places like Rome and Constantinople, preoccupied with their own urgent problems, had not yet received this news and likely wouldn’t pay much attention anyway.

But everyone related to the old gods and their lands paid more attention to this news than anyone else.

The Konungr of Novgorod, with rising tension against the Khazar Khaganate. The Norse lords who had settled in Frisia on the northern coast of Francia, working as mercenaries. The monster of Nantes. And even those seeking to dominate the western coast of Scandinavia and the minor lords opposing them.

For their respective ambitions, hopes, and survival, everyone began to move.

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Becoming Konungr had not changed my usual routine.
Sigurd still tormented my ears and mind, Ubba continued to bother me with various books he had squeezed out of a poor bishop, Ivarr was busy preparing a new expedition, and Bjorn and Halfdan prepared to return.
With things turning out this way, it strongly felt like my older brothers had dumped the most troublesome position onto the youngest. However, not wanting to tarnish the solemn scene of them requesting me to grasp the sword, I kept my doubts to myself.
Anyways, let me say it again, nothing had changed since becoming Konungr.

Aside from the titles of those wishing to meet me rising a level, and the number of people affected by my decisions increasing, everything else was the same.

Naturally, I’d work with more important matters, but I didn’t harbor the dreadful thought of shouldering that immense burden alone.

The advantage of high positions like Konungr, Jarl, and lord was having many people to order around.

Hrolf, hinting at wanting to retire soon, Storolf, gaining renown for his bravery, and even my seemingly idle brothers Sigurd and Ubba.

Whether they were capable, leisurely, or I disliked seeing them idle.

I grabbed them and ordered them to do this and that.

I put Sigurd in charge of preparing the feast to welcome the lords coming down from Bernicia in northern Northumbria and assigned Uhtred to work with him to gather information on Bernicia’s main territories and lords.

I had Ubba do the same with Egbert, the Ealdorman of the city now renamed Jórvik (York), regarding Deira in southern Northumbria.

I thought they would hate being saddled with so much work, but they rather enjoyed it, which felt strange but I decided to think of it as a good thing.

As for other administrative miscellaneous tasks, I threw them at Hrolf.

Restoring areas heavily damaged in the recent battle, classifying and distributing the iron, silver, treasures of old Konungrs brought by Uhtred, and the various tributes and gifts continuously offered from the surroundings.

Hrolf clearly disliked these tasks, but he had no other choice. Because I had no intention of approving his resignation. Hrolf, I’m sorry but you’ll be with me to the end.

Then, what was I doing you ask?

Putting it into 21st century terms, I played a role like the legendary Steve Jobs of Apple.

The conductor of the orchestra. The overseer of everything. The strategic weapon. The face of the operation, and so on.

If someone watched from the side, it might look like I was idle. But that was absolutely not true.

“King Helgi. Someone has come from Aros.”

A voice outside the door interrupted my contemplation as I enjoyed a moment of leisure in the office of Jórvik, busy with the sounds of revival after the gruesome battle.

“From Aros? Let them in.”

“Understood, my king.”

That sound of ‘my king’ still didn’t feel familiar.

‘Come to think of it, should I unify the titles too?’

The lords of Northumbria were Ealdormen, the lords of the Danes and Svear were Jarls.

At this rate, it would be no different from separate kingdoms under the same monarch. I wanted to unite the people, but was there no way? It would resolve itself to some extent with time, but…

“King Helgi. I, Haldis, a faithful servant of Hel, greet you. I hope you have been at peace.”

A delicate voice, unsuited to this space full of testosterone, resounded lowly.

‘Huh?’

Raising my head at that unfamiliar sound, I saw a priestess wearing Hel’s symbol around her neck, bowing and waiting for me.

“A priestess of Hel. Come this way and sit.”

“Thank you, my king.”

Appropriately, all her actions exuded discipline, befitting a priestess raised under my mother who strictly trained the priesthood, usually composed of orphans or youngest children of decent families. She went and sat in the seat I guided her to.

“So, did Mother send you? I hope nothing is wrong with her?”

At my worried voice, the priestess smiled slightly and shook her head.

“It’s nothing like that, you need not worry, King Helgi.”

“Then what is the matter?”

[Plop-]

Somehow it felt a bit awkward to treat the priestess to beer or mead, so I poured some wine gifted by Egbert and set it in front of her. She thanked me and pretended to take a sip before answering.

“Asta wished to convey that she would like King Helgi to come to Aros as soon as possible. Renowned individuals have sent gifts or their children…”

“…And?”

I urged the priestess to continue as she trailed off, gauging my reaction.

“And she said it’s time to resolve the matter of your marriage.”

‘Dammit.’

The inevitable has arrived.

I closed my eyes tightly.

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‘Marriage… marriage…’

After telling the priestess who had struggled to come all this way to rest comfortably, I was lost in thought while sitting with Sigurd, Ubba, Uhtred and Egbert who had subsequently visited my office.

“…So before going to Bamburgh, I saw a long, very long wall, and the people there said it was built by demons- Helgi, Helgi! Are you listening to me?”

I had sent the childish Sigurd off with Uhtred, telling them to work hard together, but it seemed he had only gone sightseeing and returned.

He was talking about how many good drinks and sights the Ealdormen with various names had saw while going up the old roads, how could I concentrate on that?

“Of course, I was listening to everything. There’s a wall that blocks demons?”

“No, I was just talking about a wall built by demons. You’re strange today, brother. What’s going on?”

Seeing Sigurd showing a rather serious expression, worrying about me unlike usual, made me feel a bit refreshed in my dizzy head.

“No, it’s nothing. Mother talked about my marriage.”

“What!? Marriage!?”

Sigurd jumped up from his seat as if he had stepped on a sharp tack, making a fuss.

“Oh my goodness! How many winters have you seen? Seventeen? No, eighteen!”

“!? Jarl Sigurd, is King Helgi only 18 years old?”

“Oh, Lord…”

“That’s right, my dear Ealdormen! My brother, at that young age, is about to walk into the great evil of marriage…! Ah, how tragic! Helgi!”

‘….’

Should I kick him?

And what were you so surprised about after hearing my age? Did I look that old?

“Anyway, since it’s come to this, we need to hurry. The Ealdormen of the north and south have clearly declared their positions, right?”

Ignoring Sigurd, who got up from his seat alone and exaggeratedly acted out a tragic scene, I asked the two Ealdormen about the current situation in Northumbria.

“Of course, King Helgi. The lords of Bernicia have already completely lost the will and ability to resist with the deaths of the tyrant and false king.”

“It’s the same for the lords of southern Deira, my King! From the moment I, Egbert of Jór-Vík, and I were the first to swear loyalty, they had no other chance!”

Uhtred delivered the situation coldly, while Egbert tried to stand out to me in any way. Egbert was indeed consistent in a different sense.

“However…”

Beside Egbert, who was rubbing his hands eagerly with a bright smile on his chubby face, Uhtred continued in a cautious tone.

“However?”

“Some bishops and the villages under them are refusing to cooperate. If you give me a little time, I will surely persuade them.”

“Hmm. Bishoprics.”

Bishoprics. In this era, an archbishop appointed by the Pope appoints bishops in various regions, who acquire or borrow land rights from the local king and establish a base.

Then they build monasteries, churches, or cathedrals, and accept the children of surrounding nobles or those of poor but bright backgrounds to raise them as monks and priests.

They farm with the peasants, transcribe books, make alcohol(?), and spread the Lord’s teachings.

Should I say it was somewhat similar to Hyanggyo and Seowon in the Joseon Dynasty? Of course, that’d be a very rough comparison, but it was roughly the image in my mind.

Even if I were a Christian monarch, it would have been something I’d have to deal with someday, but to make matters worse, I follow the Norse gods…I couldn’t leave them be.

‘Nothing is ever easy.’

“Regarding that matter, I’ll have to think about it more. Ubba, Sigurd. I need to summon the Huskarls, I think I’ll have to set foot in the northern lands myself.”

“It will be done as you command, my King.”

“Understood.”

When I changed the atmosphere and gave orders, Sigurd took the perfect stance of a Jarl receiving orders, while Ubba received the orders while deeply contemplating something.

Then I also instructed the two Ealdormen to select personnel to accompany us, and leaned back against the backrest while firmly pressing my temples.

There is no end to a king’s work, so one must rest when one can.

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[Translator Notes]

[Sooo tired. Anyways, if there’s any confusion for the constant switching between Konungr and King. Well, only fellow Vikings refer to Helgi as “Konungr” since it’s the viking term for king. Other people refer to him by “King,” which is why he was talking about unifying the titles.]

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Being a Viking Isn’t Fun

Being a Viking Isn’t Fun

Score 9.8
Status: Ongoing Type: Author: Artist: Released: 2022 Native Language: Korean
Life is about overcoming the waves that ceaselessly come crashing in, and yet the people of the North still live on today.

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Tibarias
1 month ago

A term that everyone’s comfortable with for calling him King but still leans more towards Norse culture, interesting…

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