Being a Viking Isn’t Fun – Chapter 36

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Shio
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Harald Halfdansson. The only son of the powerful King “Black” Halfdan (Halfdanr “Svarti”), who ruled the western lands of Aros with an iron fist.

Given that Konungr Halfdan was of the same generation as my father, Ragnar, Harald was a young prince during my era—already wielding real power in the west.

Like two tigers on a single mountain, the Konungrs of the west and east had been fierce rivals for generations.

Expecting tension as I entered the reception room, I was caught off guard by Harald’s reaction. He greeted me with a bright smile and clasped my arm firmly.

“Konungr Helgi! It’s an honor to finally meet you. I am Harald Halfdansson, son of Konungr Halfdan Gudrodrson, ruler of the land west of the fjords (Vestfold) and Kaupang, the gateway to Skagerrak.”

“Likewise, Harald. I am Helgi Ragnarsson, Konungr of the Danes and Svear, successor to my father, and ruler of Aros and Northumbria across the sea.”

I didn’t mention that I was hailed as the Konungr of all Norsemen—there was no need to stir up unnecessary trouble, especially when this man seemed more likely to become a friend than a foe.

Wasn’t diplomacy about reading body language, expressions, and the subtle tones between words?

Judging by Harald’s enthusiastic handshake, it was clear he wanted something from me.

After all, why else would a kingdom’s heir seek me out?

“There isn’t a soul in these lands who doesn’t know your name, Konungr Helgi. Even the Sami and Finns living beyond the snow-covered mountains in the ice know of you.”

The Sami and Finns—the tribes who gifted us the sauna. Come to think of it, it was almost time for a bath. Perhaps I should build a sauna room for myself and the family.

“Come, sit. I’ll have something to drink brought out.”

“Sharing a cup with a Konungr who’s already a living legend—my father will be jealous.”

“Haha! If it’s Halfdan of Kaupang, he’s a hero comparable to my father. Would he really be jealous of someone as inexperienced as me?”

Harald vigorously shook his head, golden hair shimmering like a torch against snow. His radiance was striking—brighter than my brother Sigurd’s famed looks, yet I couldn’t help but think…

I could still beat this cunning fellow in a fight.

Confident I could make his nose bleed with a single punch, I found Harald’s endless praise starting to wear on me. There was something off-putting about it.

Even Hrolf once told me…though I was a handsome man, the kind that birds would turn around to admire, my imposing spirit was what truly stood out.

It was like the feeling of facing a boss mob in games like White Soul or Eldering¹.

Suddenly, I remembered my mother’s words, urging me to get married. For a moment, my vision darkened.

Mother, would I ever marry?

Regardless of my musings, Harald, who reminded me of Sigurd, continued his cheerful chatter, intoxicated by the sound of his own voice.

“The Battle of Jórvík has already been immortalized in countless songs by poets far and wide. At this rate, you might be the first to ascend to Valhalla while still alive! Hahaha! I can picture Hel and Odin fighting over your soul already!”

“Thank you, Harald.”

At my gesture, the guards quickly brought out honey wine, well-roasted meat, and a few cabbage leaves. I offered a seat and a cup to Refil, who stood beside me, and we began to eat and talk in earnest.

This may look like mere socializing, but it was clearly diplomacy—political work.

Halfdan, the Konungr of Kaupang, had sent Harald to establish ties with me, making his intentions clear by holding firmly onto that key western logistics hub.

The ruler of the fjords was signaling that he had no intention of engaging in conflict.

Likely due to internal matters.

Generations of warfare and active expeditions by my grandfather and father had centralized power and wealth, laying the foundation for the large city now forming in Aros during my reign—something Scandinavia had never seen before.

What did Halfdan Gudrodrson, the strong warrior Konungr who once believed he could stand against my father, think when he saw us now?

Would he meekly submit? Or would he strive to change like we did?

Judging by the ambition in Harald’s eyes, the latter seemed more likely.

The wolves were closing in.

What should I do with all of you?

“Hahaha! It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed such company! If you ever get the chance, I’d love to host you in Kaupang. The men of the fjords never let a guest sleep soundly!”

“Haha! That sounds exhilarating. I’ll definitely visit—don’t shut me out!”

“How could I? Hahaha!”

“Hahaha!”

I’d observe him a bit longer.

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Harald, who I initially thought would simply convey his intentions, gather some information, and quickly return, had ended up staying for a full week.

At first, I thought, “This fellow is really persistent!” But as time passed, my perspective began to shift.

It seemed to me that Harald had genuinely come out of curiosity—curiosity about me and my city.

He spent his days eagerly exploring the commercial district, the residential areas, the quarter lined with temples and the mansions of high-ranking officials where my house stood, the expanding outskirts, and the road leading to the mountain range to the north.

Watching him eagerly roam around the city was like watching a dog excited for a rare outing.

With his golden hair, he resembled a golden retriever.

It wasn’t an insult—it was just hard to find a better analogy. If he wanted to, he could even call me a black dog.

…As long as he was confident that he could survive a full-force punch from me.

Anyway, Harald, who was dashing around every other day, seemed deeply impressed by Aros.

He spoke of wanting to build a similarly grand city someday and spilled out all sorts of plans to me…along with the political problems the current Konungr of Kaupang was facing.

Under the system of North Germanic tribal states ruled by the Things and Jarls that each coastal village had established, centralization was incredibly challenging.

To achieve it, one needed unimaginable productivity and power, like I had in Aros, or a cause strong enough to silence all the surrounding chiefs.

Without that? You’d have to force them to kneel.

So, did the Konungr of Kaupang have the power to make all the surrounding Jarls and the powerful Thing in Kaupang—a very old and influential city—kneel?

In Harald’s case, his vision differed slightly from his father Halfdan’s.

Halfdan, who had spent his life in countless battles and fierce internal power struggles, naturally sought to eliminate all thorns in his side. But Harald thought of nurturing Tønsberg, a place closer to Aros than Kaupang.

Seeing the resolve on Harald’s face, I could only tell him to persevere and that I would help him whenever needed…but my intuition told me that the west of Aros would soon become very noisy.

After Harald, who had been staying and depleting my house’s meat and alcohol, finally left, I was able to turn my attention to the affairs of my territory in more detail.

First, I built a sauna room outside the house with sturdy wood and enjoyed a good steam bath. Then I set about fixing the various systems that were struggling to keep up with the city’s rapid growth.

Saying I “fixed” the systems might sound grand. But in reality, there wasn’t much to it.

I organized the troops I had recruited during the war into units of ten and a hundred.

I couldn’t let the warriors, who now numbered 1,000 even excluding those who followed Ivarr and those who remained in Jórvík, remain idle. So I put them into the long-standing military tradition of civil support.

Having already paved the roads to the east and south, I formed patrol units to train them in horsemanship, while the remaining personnel were assigned to road construction and public security work, alongside Olaf’s gifts who were diligently paving the western road.

Someday I’d have to separate the military and the city guard, but there was no problem right now. It wasn’t like we were going to train battle formations like the Eight Formations, Six Flower Formations, or Eight Gates Golden Lock Formation…¹

Of course, I only laid out these plans and entrusted all the training schedules, patrol shifts, and time allocation to Refil and Storolf.

I had to coax and appease those who kept applying even though we had already accepted 1,000 men.

It would be bumpy at first, but soon a system of its own would emerge.

I wanted those under me to make mistakes. Because, in the end, everything I was trying to achieve from now on would inevitably involve facing failures and setbacks.

If it were up to me, I’d immediately create legislative, judicial, and executive branches, draft a constitution, and gather everyone in a large open space—given that the population was only about 20,000 to 30,000—and directly implement democracy, but…

You know as well as I do that it was impossible, right? Until guns, germs, telephones, and steel were invented, it was out of the question.

I had to address the slave system, resolve religious issues, get married, and keep an eye on the situation on the island of Britain across the sea.

These were the major concerns for now. It was all headache-inducing, but there’d also been plenty of good news.

The harvest was abundant once again, filling the granaries with healthy grains, and each household had a surplus of smoked and salted fish and various meats.

It was also good news that the number of cats increased out of season. The more heroes to face the Rat Demon King Army, the better.

The flock of sheep, which had clearly grown and was now listed as an export item, was moved to the vast grasslands spanning the mountain range on the outskirts of the city and entrusted to shepherd boys.

Interestingly, the shepherds of Aros showed no fear of wolves.

To the point where it seemed they only went out to hunt wolves when told to tend to the sheep, more and more people in Aros were flaunting wolf furs.

In addition to grain and livestock, there was more wealth brought back from the British expedition than expected.

I worried that releasing too much at once in the name of spoils of war might destabilize prices or that some might start testing the waters, but fortunately, that didn’t happen.

It turned out that the people of Aros, with their spirit of frugality, mostly returned safely or delivered only the spoils of those who died. They would put it in small jars, tie them tightly, and bury them in their front yards…

I thought that after this winter, merchants would likely rush east and west like mad. It was an opportunity to amass a huge amount of silver coins…

In that sense, the Jarl of Gotland casually suggested an eastern expedition during his oath of loyalty to me, but I declined, promising to consider it next time because I was genuinely busy and, above all, more interested in the west.

Now seemed like the time to catch our breath, not embark on another expedition. Of course, the warriors and I were fully charged, but my heart was entirely inclined towards rest.

And so, on a day when the last month of summer and the first month of winter were intersecting…

While I was pondering the city’s sewage problem with Hrolf and a few craftsmen, someone arrived from an unexpected place seeking an audience with me.

“So, I heard you were looking for me.”

“It is an honor, Helgi Ragnarsson, the greatest warrior, and Konungr.”

My heart swelled with joy at the confident greeting of a true warrior, whose spirit had been tempered by crossing the line of death.

“My name is Helgi Geddason, brother of Hrǿríkʀ, the Konungr of Garðaríki (Rus). I share the same name as Konungr Helgi, which is more than I deserve.

The Konungr of the Varangians (Væringjar) beyond the eastern sea has sent me to greet you.”

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[Shio here~!

Have y’all noticed that Helgi’s begun to think more and more like a king? Also, I hope y’all enjoyed reading this!

Notes:

1: White Soul and Eldering. Although most probably made the connection, these are the Dark Souls and Elden Ring of Helgi’s original universe.]