Brurtgang's Radiant Slash and the Dwarven Pact
Kankun took a deep breath and gripped her sword again. Loki, standing beside her, watched with gleaming eyes full of intrigue.
'Oh ho, her stance is solid.'
She gritted her teeth. Memories flooded her mind. The object of her vengeance: Kudan Raguna.
'Why... why the betrayal...? The man who always treated me like his own daughter killed my father, raided the village... and tried to drag me away... I want to know why.'
Something stirred deep in her chest. A strange energy spread through her body, blurring and clouding her vision. Her sword began to glow faintly, heating up.
Light Slash
She swung. Raising her sword high toward the sky.
Shout "Light Slash".
"Light—"
The sword blazed brighter, erupting in golden radiance.
"—Slash."
The air around her seemed to contract, then the golden energy expanded and exploded. Her unwavering sword stroke etched a path through the empty air, blasting the surrounding atmosphere outward. The slash shot from the blade's tip, tearing through the earth and charging forward. It pulverized the obstructing trees. A momentary hesitation in momentum. But Kankun instinctively knew.
'It'll pierce through!'
The slash cleanly penetrated the trees, leaving a scar on the rock behind before vanishing. Kankun's eyes gradually regained their clarity.
She froze. It wasn't as powerful as Loki's slash earlier, but it still packed considerable force!
Her face lit up with joy, and she bounced around like an excited child, whipping her head toward him.
"Did you see that!? I did the slash...!"
Then dizziness hit her like a wave. She staggered, but Loki caught her by the scruff of the neck before she fell.
"Urk..."
Kankun clutched her mouth, and Loki nodded in satisfaction.
"The item's performance is solid. But you can't handle the recoil yet, it seems."
"My head's spinning."
"Your body's too weak. Level up—er, train harder."
Kankun nodded at Loki's words, but she looked up at him with a puzzled expression.
"What's wrong?"
"This sword... are you giving it to me?"
From their first meeting until now, Loki showed no sign of taking the sword back. If anything, he seemed to be keeping his distance.
"No, I'm lending it to you."
Just a loan. Nothing more, nothing less.
There was another reason Loki hadn't reclaimed the sword.
Sword of Heimdall
Deals bonus damage and increases critical hit chance against Loki.
Greatly amplifies all user abilities.
Rejection.
The sword of Heimdall, Brurtgang. It had properties like bonus damage and increased critical hits against Loki, along with massive amplification of the user's abilities.
In other words, it was a weapon capable of inflicting lethal damage on Loki.
Perhaps because of that, Loki felt a strong aversion to Brurtgang.
'Probably because the game's lore was based on Norse mythology.'
In Norse mythology, Loki and the light god Heimdall kill each other in battle. In this world, turned real by the game's lore, that aversion came naturally.
Loki pushed Brurtgang away like a vampire repelled by garlic.
"Um... Lord Loki."
Loki turned his head. Shaman, the Nod tribe's priest, approached from the forest and bowed.
"A guest has arrived."
A guest? Had another tribe launched a raid?
As Loki eyed Shaman curiously, the old priest continued with a troubled expression.
"Dwarves."
"...?"
"A group of dwarves at the temple..."
***
Reran, the leader of the dwarves, swallowed dryly as he surveyed his surroundings. He couldn't tear his eyes from the temple's architecture.
The soaring ceiling. But where pillars should have supported it, there were none. This was a structure designed through precise mathematical calculations.
The building itself bore intricate patterns and decorations exuding grandeur and splendor.
'Incredible craftsmanship!'
Exact angles, perfect proportions, and a design accounting for weight distribution. Reran stared at the ceiling before shifting his gaze to the figure on the jade throne.
A pitch-black helmet. Horns curved in a spiral like a mountain goat's skull. Clad in black armor with a dark brown beast-fur cloak over his shoulders. To the Nod, he was a demon—the Constellation of Sin.
He looked down upon them.
'This is the master of the citadel? But first...'
Reran broke into cold sweat and glanced sideways. Undead warriors in armor and helmets stood there. As he examined their gear, a shiver ran through him.
'What in the world is that equipment on the undead!? Unseen metals! And those blades—sharpened to perfection!'
Born a blacksmith, and a leader among dwarves, Reran couldn't resist. New metals and architecture born of unfamiliar techniques captivated him.
"Your name."
Reran looked up at Loki.
"I asked your name."
Swallowing hard, Reran spoke.
"Rer-Reran. Son of Auson, Reran."
For a proud dwarf, kneeling and using honorifics was rare. He bowed to no one but his chieftain or parents—yet before this being, the words flowed unbidden.
"What brings you here?"
Reran fell silent at Loki's question. He recalled recent events.
It had been pure chance. Fleeing southland slave hunters, the dwarves had migrated to the sparsely populated frozen north. Nod raiders existed here too, but fewer than in the south, and no nations hunted dwarves systematically. Above all, the frozen lands teemed with ore.
An ideal haven for dwarves.
Passing through the forest, they heard hammering. Crude sounds drew their eyes to a village erecting buildings en masse.
'Tch, pathetic construction.'
Crude beyond belief. From materials to techniques, it couldn't match even a fraction of dwarven or southland skill.
'They'll crumble to any monster attack.'
Sneering at the humans, Reran meant to pass by. But then came something beyond admiration—shock.
The temple. Loki's Valhalla Palace.
Built of unknown rocks and metals unknown to this world, it radiated majesty and might, worthy of Nod praise.
Its grandeur pulled their feet inexorably. The dwarves entered Valhalla Palace, met Shaman, and gained audience with its master.
"Great master of this temple!"
Recalling it all, Reran opened his trembling mouth. For a dwarf, this was humiliating, a blow to honor if known. But he cast pride aside to beg.
It was...
"Teach us the construction techniques of this palace and the methods to procure those materials!"
Begging knowledge from non-dwarves.
"Very well."
Reran looked up in shock.
"I permit it."
To grant it so easily! New construction techniques! New rocks and metals! Normally, Reran would scoff. No race dared speak of skill to dwarves.
But now was different. Creations of novel, mystical techniques lay before him. Acquiring this would be rare—no, impossible elsewhere on the continent!
With this, his name would echo through dwarven history!
As Reran rejoiced...
"But I want compensation."
Reran and the dwarves froze.
"Wh-what...?"
Loki leaned forward, gazing down.
"Labor."
"..."
"I'll teach you to produce the rocks and metals for building this palace."
Loki tapped the throne's armrest.
"In return, work for us."
Valhalla Palace housed a dungeon for rock production and a metal refinery. They could build near-equivalents, but Loki had no intent to micromanage.
His high-freedom game, Ragnarok. Players were meant to grind materials, craft, and build via tedium.
'...I hate grinding.'
The developer Loki loathed it. With dwarves volunteering to automate, he couldn't let them slip away.
"Y-you mean become slaves?"
"Not slaves—workers."
"..."
"I'll provide homes here. Warm shelter, food, water, protection. In exchange, create what we desire."
Reran needed no deliberation. Escape slave hunts. Secure a safe home for his kin. This demon offered both—and new techniques!
"...Of, of course! We must! No—let us do it!"
He bowed low, pleading earnestly.
"But do not share this knowledge with others."
"Of course! Even if we did, humans, elves, or other races couldn't master such greatness!"
"..."
True—game-system tech couldn't be replicated.
"Also, forge weapons."
Many Nod populated the area. They'd need arms for self-defense.
Reran thrilled. Weapons from new metals and rocks?! It ignited dwarven artisan pride.
***
Time flew after the dwarves settled. Structures rose before Valhalla Palace. Accepting fleeing Nod raiders, Loki expanded his influence.
Growing population demanded more labor, more buildings. The dense forest vanished, birthing the city of Valhalla.
Nod attending rituals via Shaman inevitably encountered Valhalla—and its 'safe haven' allure.
Meeting the Constellation of Sin bred fear and awe. Their worshipped constellation awakened—natural. Shaman's devotion fanned forgotten faith.
As Nod gathered, the city prospered. Tribes traded, markets formed.
Thus, beholding Valhalla's rise...
"...Incredible! These bastards aim to build a nation?"
"I-it seems so, brother. This is where Kudan said the demon descended...! But how did an empty forest develop like this in just six months...!"
...outsiders arrived.
Two mysterious foreigners. A lean, handsome man in his thirties, guarded by a burly brute.
Kudan's rebel allies had come to Valhalla Palace.
"Now, shall we find that girl Kankun Kudan mentioned?"