Chapter 197
Chapter 197
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 197
Chapter Title: The Burning Yggdrasil (1)
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“I first met him in Jotunheim.”
“So he wasn’t from the same tribe?”
“Correct. Freyja and Loki were a sort of... hostages and peace envoys. Back when we were invading other worlds, we had to resolve things somewhat... peacefully with the tribes that put up particularly fierce resistance.”
The god of mischief, the god of theater, Odin’s top advisor in the court and the jester he trusted most—Loki. Son of Utgard, king of Jotunheim. He was a prince handed over as a hostage for the peace treaty with Jotunheim.
As hostages often are, his treatment in the Aesir court wasn’t exactly favorable. But with his cheeky personality and wrinkle-free, cheerful pranks, the Aesir ministers soon accepted him into Odin’s retinue.
“He was smart. He knew how to see the big picture. He understood my words the fastest and accomplished what I wanted with the least effort. If I hadn’t had my own sons... I even considered making him my son-in-law and passing the kingdom to him.”
Odin closed his eyes, reminiscing about the past. The cleverest and wittiest young man among all he knew. If he was always giving apt advice, then even in this situation, he could come up with an utterly unexpected solution.
That’s what he thought back then. Upon returning to the kingdom, he secretly summoned Loki.
* * *
“Your Majesty, you called... You’re hurt. Friend. Did you call me to fetch a physician?”
Loki wrinkled his nose the moment he pushed aside the curtain and entered Odin’s bedchamber. The acrid smell of burning herbs filled the room. The tingling numbness at the tip of his nose told him it was a narcotic herb.
Odin occasionally indulged in narcotics to probe the mysteries of magic and acted strangely, but this was different. This dulled the senses themselves. There was only one reason for such a herb: a severe injury.
Loki approached the interior of the chamber cautiously, mindful of the dagger at his waist. Inside the curtained bed, he could see the silhouette of Odin, pipe in mouth.
“With Helheim’s military capabilities, they couldn’t have inflicted a serious wound on the king of Asgard... What did you do, friend?”
“I... saw the future.”
“I see it sometimes too. Tomorrow, the sun will rise in the east.”
Loki chuckled and pulled back the curtain. There lay a middle-aged man sprawled on the bed, pipe clenched in his teeth. Odin, the mighty conqueror king. But his once-vibrant eyes were now clouded, and one was covered by a black eyepatch.
Blood was seeping out from beneath it. Loki swallowed dryly. He had never seen Odin this frail. This might be his one chance...
At that moment, Odin spoke haltingly.
“I need your help.”
“Tell me. What is it?”
“Think of a way to avert the end.”
Loki frowned at Odin’s words and perched on the edge of the bed. He plucked a grape from a nearby table, rolled it in his mouth, and stroked his chin.
“What’s with the sudden nonsense? Did you take something in Helheim? Don’t hog it—share some with me.”
“I still see it... Loki. The end, the world’s final breath. I left one of my eyes... in the future.”
“To me, that looks like a knife wound.”
“Look at this.”
Odin fumbled with a gesture and handed Loki a dagger. Loki let out a small gasp of admiration at the powerful divinity emanating from it.
“Impressive relic. You stabbed it into your eye?”
“Want to try it? Heh, the future is visible.”
“I don’t like experimenting with new relics on my own body... Seeing you like this, I get why all those ‘future-seers’ end up killing themselves.”
So, what did you see? Loki looked at Odin with keen interest. Odin slowly raised his torso. Phew—the thick tobacco smoke poured from his mouth.
* * *
Odin looked at Fernandez and slowly opened his mouth.
“And so I told Loki how the world would perish.”
“You told Sadarkelia the process of destruction?”
“No, that was merely... a role. The end is a more specific yet all-encompassing concept. The world’s end required several conditions.”
First, the endless winter. Fimbulvetr. When all plants freeze and all crops wither, the great famine begins.
“To prevent that, we needed Vanadis. The maiden of spring. The one who could make flowers bloom and tend crops to keep us alive even in winter.”
Second, Jörmungandr. The giant serpent coiled around Yggdrasil, the immense ash tree that forms Asgard. At the moment of the end, it spews venom to corrupt the world and devour the Aesir.
“Several candidates were considered for that role. It just so happened there was a world where dragons roamed.”
“The prime material plane...?”
“Quick on the uptake—good. The world you came from. We named it Midgard.”
The place with the highest racial diversity, home to native species not found in other dimensions... the land of dragons. The land watched by the heavens, where the threat of demons was faintest.
Unlike other worlds that faded with a fixed pattern, half-stabilized, this was a turbulent land where countless civilizations bloomed, burned, and rose again. And so we named it Midgard.
* * *
Loki stroked his chin as he gazed at the names written on the parchment. He soon shook his head and crossed one out.
“Not Karadpellin. That stiff one got too close to the heavens. He’ll have another role.”
“Next?”
“Lakrisir... on hold. He’s too weak and small. Next.”
“Abelessas?”
“The most suitable timber... but no. There were rumors he suddenly turned meek and holed up in a cave.”
“Next?”
“Sadarkelia.”
Loki drew a circle in the corner of the parchment as he spoke.
“Plenty strong, plenty ambitious, and plenty gullible. A poor dragon who lost hegemony over land and sky... Let’s take her under our wing.”
Loki grinned slyly.
* * *
“So he headed to Midgard. Bragging that he’d roast Jörmungandr, no less. And then...”
“Wait, hold on.”
Fernandez interrupted Odin, frowning. Of course, it made sense. A plausible scenario, but... ridiculous. To avert the end by exterminating his own kind?
“I can’t imagine your kind being that selfless? Sacrificing themselves to prevent the total end of other worlds? A tragic tale, but... it sounds like a lie.”
“The conditions of Ragnarok didn’t end with Jörmungandr. If we wanted extinction, why need Vanadis?”
Odin gave a faint smile.
“When Jotunheim’s legions break their oath and march on Asgard, and Helheim follows in their wake with their assault, and Asgard’s foundations crumble and Muspelheim’s demons crawl to the surface. When the rifts between dimensions collapse and the world falls apart. Only then does Ragnarok truly begin.”
Odin spoke as if declaring an ancient prophecy. He soon closed his eyes and said calmly.
“Freyja. In exchange for taking the queen of the Vanir as a hostage. To guarantee her safety, Vanheim pledged their territory to us. And... to preserve Vanheim’s purity, we severed all Bifrost bridges leading there.”
“But Freyja is in Midgard now?”
“Indeed. In exchange for guaranteeing Freyja’s safety, I sealed her in Midgard. She believes she fled of her own accord, but...”
Purity. Odin chuckled softly. He continued the prophecy. From his eyepatched eye, a gloomy blue light flowed, imprinting images into Fernandez’s mind.
“Loki shall bridge the broken Bifrost. Helheim, Jotunheim, Muspelheim... All of Asgard’s enemies shall converge here, in Asgard.”
Gateways opened across the burning realms of Asgard, and visions swirled of legions from other worlds, grinding their teeth to avenge old wars, flooding in.
But their vanguard soon falters in confusion. The paradise called Asgard is gone. Only scorched earth, polluted skies, and swarming demons remain...
No Aesir in this Asgard. In their eyes... only one land retains the shape of paradise.
—Yggdrasil...
“Upon the burning land, they shall advance. Revenge... lust for conquest... or longing for Aesir civilization... whatever it may be. In the face of the end, it’s all futile... When they gather beneath this hall of strife. They shall face but one being. ‘Jörmungandr’! The world-destroyer descends!”
No matter the reason for mobilization or the pretext for war. When Bifrost fully opens and interdimensional exchange becomes free, war becomes mere struggle for survival. A fight to protect one’s world from hell’s demons!
The Einherjar alone are not enough. Odin had, from the start, concentrated the world’s gateways here to defeat Sadarkelia.
“The future is merely a confluence of possibilities. Then, guide the prophecy itself to the most advantageous possibility! Mortal, head to Yggdrasil. Vanheim, Jotunheim, Helheim, Asgard, and Midgard. If the elite of the five worlds gather, even Jörmungandr can be opposed!”
The blue light faded from Odin’s eye. He now regarded Fernandez with silent eyes.
“I won’t claim we are without sin. The sin of using Midgard’s faithful for our purposes, of plundering the horizontal worlds, of rallying hell’s demons and then unleashing them... As you say, my sins are beyond repentance. But hear me. Go to Yggdrasil. I shall bear my people’s sins alone and atone in death on the battlefield.”
Odin closed his eyes as he spoke. Bodiless as he was, there was nothing more he could do now. Fernandez seized Odin’s hair.
He had said he chased thrills in his boring life. This old king was evacuating his people to safe lands and tasking the remaining royals with finding a way to avert doom.
Weighing extenuating circumstances was pointless. For Fernandez, it wasn’t about the greater good, but the goal.
—He’ll be useful.
‘And I like him.’
If it were shortly after lichdom, perhaps not, but with certain conditions met, he could regain a body. Not a living one, but one wielding ample power.
This wasn’t about ideals, justice, or pretexts. Fernandez tucked Odin’s head into his belt.
“Hold tight even if it’s bumpy. We’re about to run.”
Fernandez stretched lightly and nodded to Kirhas. The two dashed forward almost in unison.
Beneath Yggdrasil’s shadow, the remaining distance was not far.