Being a Viking Isn’t Fun – Chapter 4

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Shio
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For a while, there was a considerable debate on whether to use stone or wood for the state-of-the-art walls. Mother was smiling under them.

“Mother. You didn’t have to come out like this…”

I wonder if it was a characteristic of me as a person. Even though I somehow ended up living a second life, the existence of a mother was so heavy that it always felt like she would be standing there eternally, so I ended up complaining every time.

“It’s only a few steps. The goddess is also smiling brightly at your victory.”

Deep green eyes resembling mine warmly observed my face, which must have had a stupid expression, focusing on something beyond that.

“But you must always be careful. The love of the gods doesn’t always lead to the love of humans…”

“Yes, Mother. I will always keep that in mind.”

In the early days of the Duel of Aros, priests from various regions sent several great warriors among the contenders. The reason, labeled as doctrinal disputes, could more accurately be described as a struggle for resources. While my father, Ragnar’s lineage was deeply rooted in adventuring, my mother Asta’s family was steeped in miracles. With vast ancestral lands obtained through expeditions, and a wealth of virtues accumulated from good deeds, the union of my parents resolved many complex political issues, including aspects of theocracy.
Yet.

This made one question why many challenged a virtuous woman like my mother. But you see, the faith of Northern Europe in this era was at a level where religious content could be drastically exaggerated from village to village. So, priests from various regions often shouted, ‘My words are right so she’s a sinner!’

Which made the answer to the question “Who is right?” be decided by the result of duels.

Even if it was an era where the representatives of various gods attacked each other with tongues and daggers, the people living on this land were not completely foolish…

Although the Goddess Hel, who governed death, was somewhat unfamiliar and even fearsome to the Sviar-Danes, who worshiped many gods, the appearance of her priestess and the birth of a renowned Konungr’s child marked a turning point. Suddenly, life in Aros flourished, and precious babies no longer died.

So, true faith began to sprout among the simple Germanic people.

Unfortunately, faith was not infinite, so the priests from various regions, whose resources were gradually decreasing, could not endure it and ended up challenging it, and I took care of them.

“Yes. To whom, am I saying this… As I get older, I seem to say more and more useless things.”

Mother’s concern was ultimately referring to the jealousy and envy of those around us. Who was I to deny that solemn worry and love?

“Please don’t say such things. Mother.”

‘You’re too healthy for your age? Just last night, didn’t you finish the hind leg of a wild boar in an instant?’

Of course, for the safety of my back, I only repeated the latter part in my mind. Mother’s hands were quick, unlike her outward appearance.

[Ding-]

“Oh-! My mother Asta! The most beloved daughter of the goddess Hel! I have a song prepared for you!”

The sound of a harp intruded while I was having a pleasant conversation with Mother. Sigurd, who had been tuning the harp from afar, finally bowed gracefully yet ridiculously, and immediately began to play a melody I had never heard before in my life.

“Oh~ counting the stars~ in the night sky, Stjarna~ in front of Asta~”

[Ding- Ding- Ding-]

‘What on earth is he doing?’

This person’s music was not ordinary. Unlike his handsome appearance, Sigurd was a terrible tone-deaf. Although, I heard that he considered himself an unrivaled artist and was in the process of engraving his works on the tombstones of Roskilde…

[Clap- Clap- Clap-]

Somehow, Mother was clapping along to the beat of the harp, seemingly enjoying every note. But judging by the Huskarlar¹ who were shaking their heads when I looked around, it seemed that Sigurd wasn’t good at singing even by this era’s standards.

[Dingdingding-]

“Kiyoot-!!!”

As the beat gradually accelerated, Sigurd’s high notes began to sound like a goat’s bleat, so he was probably approaching the climax.

The problem with this shoddy bard was that he tried to sing soprano songs as a baritone…Well, it didn’t really matter if he sucked if Mother liked it.

‘Yes, sing as much as you want. My ears are ready…’

Fortunately, Sigurd’s horrible singing was cut short by his throat’s low endurance, as his voice quickly became hoarse, allowing our party to enter my longhouse.

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“So I came to both deliver news and see your face, and it happened that the Duel of Aros was being held! I thought, what a coincidence!”

[Clop- Clop- Clop-]

Under the sound of hooves more pleasant than Sigurd’s singing, we were heading towards the lush forest in the north of the city for a while with a few guards.

[Neigh! Neigh!]

Riding slowly on a horse that seemed too small for people but proved surprisingly strong and powerful, I enjoyed the cool summer breeze—equivalent to spring in 21st-century Korea—as it gently brushed against my face.

“As expected! A warrior who has fought a hundred battles! A warrior who knows nothing but victory, I was able to witness a duel that could not find a single flaw in his reputation!”

Sigurd, who had feasted and rested at my longhouse the day before, appeared to be in top condition. I wondered if it was due to my mother’s loving attention to my brother, who had visited for the first time in a while.

‘Although my mind is a bit tired due to that mouth that moves incessantly.’

Unlike my large build, I was thoughtful and introverted, rarely speaking unless necessary. So, when I saw someone like Sigurd, who talked incessantly, I found it remarkable. ‘Doesn’t he run out of breath?’ Nevertheless, this lively atmosphere wasn’t bad. It was refreshing, even though it was a bit overwhelming.

“Just in time, here’s the other protagonist of that glorious battle! The owner of the name that was on the lips of all the people of Aros last night! Storolf Ormson! Will you tell me your thoughts!”

“Jarl Sigurd. What would you like to know?”

“Of course, it’s about the battle! I’m curious about the experience of fighting my brother here.”

“Ah- Although it was too short, I will only tell you what I remember.”

Unfortunately, these cute horses that Sigurd and I were riding were very precious, so we couldn’t share them with all the guards. Storolf, who had been following along on foot, proudly raised his bruised face and answered Sigurd’s question.

“Like all warriors, of course I made a plan.”

Excited by the interest of the high-ranking Jarl, this young warrior continued, flaring his nostrils and waving his hands as if reenacting a scene from a myth.

“First of all, I’m the biggest among my peers, but isn’t Jarl Helgi a head taller than even me?”

“That’s right. My brother is a man who can fight and win against those fierce bears with his bare hands.”

No, even so, that was a bit…I mean, bears tore people apart after all.

‘No, wait, maybe it’s possible?’

Next to me, whose hands briefly overflowed with overwhelming strength, were two men. Even though one was on horseback, they maintained similar eye levels and continued chattering.

“So I thought I should first enter Jarl Helgi’s range. I’m confident in my strength, so I figured if I could just close the distance, I would either sweep away his shield with my axe or catch his sword under my axe blade and get rid of it.”

[Swoosh- Swoosh-]

Storolf, who recited his battle plan with a fairly vivid description, received nods from Sigurd and the guards.

“That makes sense. It’s textbook.”

“Penetrating into Jarl Helgi’s embrace? It’s a courage that only a young warrior can have.”

“To face a bear, you must first stand before it. Storolf is a brave warrior.”

Of course, I, who was watching that, was dumbfounded.

‘I’m not a bear.’

“It clearly looked like an opening, but when I actually tried to penetrate, wasn’t a huge shield flying towards my face? So, I tried to block it first by putting out my shield, but ah! My goodness, that was a mistake. If possible, I should have dodged. Or just rolled away!”

Thanks to Storolf, who was now even taking rolling motions, the party was able to laugh lightly. That guy had enough talent as a comedian.

“Bang! The moment we collided, my whole body shook. But a man of Aros can’t fall that easily! I thought I swung my axe with all my might, but I don’t remember what happened next.”

“That’s because a fist faster than an arrow touched your face. Haha!”

“Hahaha!”

“He fell over so refreshingly! I thought you were dead!”

Storolf, who was scratching his nose as if embarrassed, grinned and said, “I also thought I had reached Valhalla.”

“Hahaha! So, what does my brother, who put our brave Storolf in that state, think?”

Sigurd, who directly leaned over and patted Storolf’s shoulder, immediately turned the arrow towards me.

Hmm. How was the duel with Storolf?

‘Actually, it wasn’t much different from the previous 100 or so duels…’

The warriors I have fought so far weren’t ordinary either, they were men who had been chosen by someone or had proven their strength somewhere. In that sense, Storolf was a shining raw gem, but he had not been polished yet.

“He still has a lot to learn.”

I considered myself a warrior rather than a diplomat, and the virtues of a warrior were strength and honesty.

“I see.”

Likewise, this young Huskarl, who had already proven himself to be a brave warrior, had no hesitation in accepting defeat.

“If he is polished further, soon everyone will remember the name of the brave Storolf.”

“Oho-”

Storolf’s wide eyes were filled with emotion, and Sigurd made a strange sound, stars appearing in his serpent-like eyes.

“Hey Storolf, if by some unknown gods’ mischief, you have to leave Aros, know that the doors of Roskilde are always open to you.”

“Huh-”

Even in the immoral 800s of Northern Europe, headhunting right in front of the company president who was watching. Sigurd, with a brazen face, didn’t mind the snort I let out in amazement, but Storolf spoke, exhaling.

“Jarl Sigurd. Thank you for the offer, but I am already a member of the Garmr Brotherhood and a pledger who has dedicated my oath to the goddess Hel, Aros, and Jarl Helgi Ragnarsson.”

Sigurd who received an answer worth 200 points out of a 100 point test, laughed loudly, admitting defeat, and Hrolfr, my retainer chief and the actual number 2 in Aros (number 1 was my Mother), who had been watching the situation with eagle eyes behind Storolf, smiled satisfactorily. Me on the other hand? I was just a normal boss. Just a teeny bit stronger than others.

“I made a big mistake, Storolf Ormson. When I return, I will send you mead as an apology. Will you accept my apology?”

“There is nothing to forgive. Jarl! Rather, it is an honor.”

The corners of Storolf’s mouth, who was about to receive an unexpected gift, soon stretched to his ears, and the surrounding guards were also rejoicing at the heartwarming scene. Sigurd slyly brought his horse close to me and whispered as if speaking.

“Helgi. I think it would be good to rest here for a bit before going. My horse also seems a bit tired.”

[Neigh-]

When I tapped the horse’s enticing mane-covered neck, Sigurd’s mount shook its head vigorously, as if to say, ‘I don’t mind! I can walk like this all day!’ Despite this, I decided to follow Sigurd’s lead. This scheming older brother of mine must have had something on his mind, especially since he suddenly appeared yesterday.

“Let’s do that. Hrolfr, we’ll rest here for a bit before going.”

“Understood. Jarl.”

The quick-witted and experienced Hrolfr skillfully commanded the guards, pretending to establish a perimeter around the area, and arranged a space for Sigurd and me.

Sigurd, who had been staring blankly at the scene, finally voiced the thoughts he had been holding onto, without even turning his head toward me.

“Helgi. Even you, who don’t move from Aros, must have heard the stories brought by Bjorn (“Jarnsida”) and Ivarr (“hinn beinlausi”) from the west and east, respectively.”

‘Ah-. Is he going to talk about that now?’

The burden that the sons of Ragnar Sigurdsson carried from the moment they were born. A kind of expectation given only to the sons of the great adventurer Konungr.

Now Sigurd was about to talk about the [Vikings].

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Okay, I’m going to be real, Sigurd’s singing can’t be that bad, right? Honestly, whenever Helgi described Sigurd’s singing, I pictured Mirai Kuriyama from Kyoukai no Kanata, or Gajeel from Fairy Tale failing miserably to sing. Let me know who you guys pictured!

Notes:

1: In Old Norse, Huskarl (plural Huskarlar) generally means “manservant.” Not to be confused with slaves or serfs, they are free men that often were well-trained full-time soldiers in service of another. For example, Storolf is a Huskarl in service of Helgi.