Being a Viking Isn’t Fun – Chapter 7

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Shio
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The time-honored Thing of Uppsala was convened.

Various jarls and renowned individuals from across the land eagerly sprinted or rode on horseback to reach Uppsala. Soon, alcohol would flood the hall (Sal) where they would gather, and the name of Aella, the Konungr of Northumbria, would be desecrated a thousand times over. Voices demanding human sacrifices in honor of Odin and Ragnar would reverberate throughout the vast corridor.

I had no interest in such things. While I may have lost most of my traces as a citizen of 21st-century South Korea, I had one last line I wouldn’t cross: human sacrifices. Therefore, I had banned the sacrifice of humans in my presence as a witness of the gods.

“The gods do not want such things. All my previous priests were wrong. If you don’t believe my words, let’s stake our honors and have a match. The gods will decide the winner.”

Priests and great warriors accepted my provocation, saying that I was a cocky young bastard who didn’t know his place. So, I personally sent them to the embrace of the gods.

However, these things—slaves, human sacrifices—were a part of our culture, so they couldn’t be outright eradicated. Although no one dared to do it in front of my eyes, there were probably hundreds of such cases behind my back. Hell, suttee¹ was probably even practiced in places far from Aros.

‘I’ll have to crush them all whenever I see them.’

Why would you willingly hang or bury precious manpower? They should’ve thought about ways to exploit them. Stupid fools.

I personally didn’t believe in being a living witness of the gods, or the great warrior of Hel that people claimed I was. Even after 17 winters since my reincarnation, I hadn’t even seen the shadow of the goddess Hel. However, if there was something to believe in, it was the stats and traits that I was blessed with. Even if I didn’t know what brought me here, the power and authority it let me wield were clearly beyond man.

One of those traits allowed the seemingly endless line of supplies before my eyes to become a reality.

“Amazing. Truly amazing.”

Round glasses really suited Ubba, who couldn’t hide his excitement at the endless grains, breads, high-quality spears, shields, and other supplies being generated by Aros.

“To think that a farmer in Aros produces at least three times more supplies than a farmer in Uppsala…”

My brother, who was quick with calculations, mused briefly before quickly turning his head to me.

“Helgi. This is really unbelievable. Are you a wizard? Have you really never seen the goddess, Hel? Are you really Father’s son?”

“Ubba…”

Had he lost his mind?

Ubba instantly blocked my mouth, and spat out words excitedly, as if a dam had burst.

“Aros is absorbing our Sviar and Danes, the old Geats and Jutes beyond, and even the people and goods from across the sea. An impossibly large amount of food at an even more impossibly low price. It’s not at all strange that people are flocking, but do you know what will happen if this state continues? My young but big brother.”

Ubba’s eyes flickered with a different intensity than Sigurd’s. If Sigurd’s eyes felt sinister, then Ubba’s held something close to madness.

“I don’t know. Isn’t it good to eat well and live well? The old men of the Thing might get a headache if people gather and the city grows…”

If I couldn’t establish a water supply system, there were many nearby lakes and swamps we could get water from. So, all I had to do was solve the city’s sewage problem and it’d grow steadily. Then, I could live leisurely off the revenue from indirect taxes of roads or maritime transport.

‘I already have no worries about money just from the land passed down from Mother, but the more money the better.’

There was no proper finance system in this era, and landowners ruled over everyone. In that sense, my maternal family, which was an old priestly family with generations of history, were tremendous land owners. And if I put my mind to it, I could claim any land in sight, beat up jarls (who were like village or town heads), and greatly increase my wealth…But, that wasn’t necessary, I was rather satisfied with Aros in its current state.

“Odin is a mischievous god. He always bestows his favor with unknown standards.”

“What?”

“Strengthening the position of the Konungr, which our grandfather and father so desperately desired. The Sviar and Danes scattered all over this land, even the Geats (Norway in the 21st century) beyond that mountain range and the Jutes (Jutland Peninsula) next to Sellan Island, and even our kinsmen (Rus) across the eastern sea. Finally, the opportunity to unite them is in your hands, Helgi.”

Ubba’s strong grip on my shoulders felt lackluster when compared to his intense gaze. We all shared the same deep green eyes. But, how could his feel so different? An unknown obsession lingered within Ubba’s eyes, one far greater than what any madman could dream of.

“Just like Karl of the Franks did. So how can I treat you as just one of my brothers, Helgi Ragnarsson, Jarl of Aros.”

“…Ubba.”

Ubba’s grip seemed to be desperately trying to hold me in place, but even that was nothing due to my formidable physique. So, I gently brushed off his hands and shook my head.

“I have to set out to sea right away, what on earth are you talking about? Let’s focus only on the matter at hand for now. Father’s revenge is the most important thing.”

As the only man with common sense in the mid-800’s, I tried to explain myself in a way he could understand, but this madman’s grin only grew wider, ignoring my words. With a smile like that, he somewhat resembled Sigurd.

“Yes. Father’s revenge. I swear, if I capture Aella, I will kill him in the most cruel way I can. But Helgi. How long do we have to wash blood with blood? How long do we have to catch and sell those cross-believing people in the west for the silver and gold of Miklagaror and the Muslims beyond? When we can take something bigger, something greater!”

Brothers really were alike. His words were no different from Sigurd’s, who wanted to conquer the Saxon land. Truthfully, it sounded good. But, as a 21st century person at heart, I wanted to tell him that we could only conquer by shedding blood, and that even more blood would shed after that…But not now.

“It’s not too late to talk about that after we catch and kill Aella of Northumbria.”

Concerned that this uncomfortable conversation would persist, I turned my body to find Ivarr, who was appointed as the captain of this vanguard.

“No matter how great a warrior you are, you cannot escape fate, Helgi.”

Ubba’s low voice seeped into my ears from behind. And for a moment, I felt like I heard the pleasant laughter of an old crone, but I must have imagined it—because I soon forgot about it.

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I searched for Ivaar, but felt a little disheartened by the crowd of people busily carrying food back and forth while preparing the ships. More precisely, Ubba’s appearance from earlier lingered in my mind, so I needed a little time alone.

‘Since Ivarr seems to be in the hall where the Thing is in full swing…’

I turned my footsteps and went to the back gate that connected to the living chambers, not the main gate that led to the hall. Looking at it this way, the life of a Jarl and a Konungr were consumed by politics. Their own house acted as a legislative body, and the executive branch of various policies. It was also the judiciary.

“Jarl Helgi.”

“Good work.”

I briefly encouraged the Huskarlar on guard duty and entered the house, which felt damp from the rain that had fallen until dawn.

“Helgi. Come quickly. I was worried since you went out in the morning without even having breakfast.”

“Mother, Mother. Did you sleep well last night? I had no choice but to go out with Hrolfr, as supplies were pouring in from Aros.”

I bowed once to my mother Asta, and once more to my mother Aslaug. It felt uncomfortable to bow separately to each of them. Perhaps it was because I had barely visited Uppsala since the age of 10, but awkward feelings lingered.

My birth mother Asta smiled gently beside my stepmother Aslaug, who warmly welcomed me.

“Sigurd was just here until a while ago. That boy, who looked sadder than anyone else, tried hard to smile and comfort us both.”

There was a familiar harp next to the two of them, who were sowing clothes as a pastime. The emotionally volatile Sigurd was also incredibly devoted to our mothers.

‘Our mothers must have had a hard time.’

When you listened to Sigurd’s unique singing skills, your chest would suddenly feel stuffy, blood would rush to your head, and then your eyes would close. No, mother Asta liked Sigurd’s singing? I couldn’t understand how, but personal taste was personal taste.

The two of them smiled after looking at my expression, and said,

“Don’t worry too much. He’s not tactless enough to sing right next to the gathered jarls.”

Hoho—

The first lady of this household. The queen who gave birth to five powerful sons. A person of unrivaled wealth, the daughter of the Jarl of Gothland, someone no one could ignore despite her kind smile. It went without saying that the person who contributed greatly to my father’s legendary achievement of plundering the Franks was no ordinary person. It was just that her quiet and reserved demeanor often betrayed her feats. Nevertheless, it was easy for a woman who spent her life beside Father in the hall of Uppsala—which was no different from a battlefield—to read the innermost thoughts of a rookie jarl who had only seen 17 winters.

“I see. I’m glad that both of you seem to be alright. I’ll be going now. I have a lot to prepare.”

Anyway, it was far too hard for me to face my two mothers today. My unnecessarily adept eyes showed me too well the deep shadows underneath the eyes of the two smiling without reserve.

“Helgi.”

The cold grasp of my stepmother enveloped my hand as I was about to leave the room filled with warmth.

“I said this to Sigurd as well, but I’d rather you not worry about us. Your father must not have been afraid of death. Whether he died from a snake bite, drowned in the sea, or even if he was struck by lightning on the way. Your father is someone Odin will personally open the gates of Valhalla and rush out to seat him beside his throne.”

The eyes that held moisture did not darken from the deep shadows. And the serene expression of my birth mother, who was quietly nodding beside my stepmother, showed that she agreed. Did the goddess Hel finally give her priestess a revelation?

“I understand, Mother. I’m not sure if I came here and made you worry for nothing. I will take my leave now.”

For some reason, I felt like I was comforted when I came to comfort them instead.

Leaving my mothers’ room, I glanced towards the hall where the Thing was in full swing, and turned my body in the opposite direction, leaving the longhouse.

Then, the moisture-soaked mud soon clung to my feet. Passing by the laborers who were shouting and diligently carrying things, and roughly answering the jarls who greeted me, I hurried my steps as if running away. Only when I reached the outskirts of Uppsala, where the town met the sea, and the beach where sand and gravel were scattered, did I finally exhale the breath that seemed to have been blocked.

‘Helgi, you must keep in mind. Grasping a sword means that someday you may also die by someone’s sword.’

‘Father, then can’t we just not grasp a sword?’

‘Haha! You’re right, Helgi. It would be nice not to grasp a sword-‘

The conversation I had with my father at this very place was drawn in the air. Father’s appearance, laughing bitterly as if refreshed, was overjoyed.

‘-But those who lead others must grasp and wield a sword. Otherwise, your people will be hurt by other sword-wielders.’

‘I see.’

‘But no matter what happens, never be afraid, my son. In the end, when this life ends, we will all meet again in Valhalla, under Odin’s banner.’

[Shing-]

The gleaming blade was chilling. But my two eyes reflected in that blade were even more chilling.

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Aella is not surviving. His death will be far more gruesome than what we could ever depict. Seriously, who in their right mind would kill the Father of a man renowned as a living demigod?

What do you guys think will happen next?

Notes:

1: Suttee is a former practice in India whereby a widow threw herself on to her husband’s funeral pyre.