Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Gleipnir, the Rainbow Gatekeeper
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The moment I created my character, I checked the command inputs first.
As I swung my sword at empty air for a good while to get a feel for the frames, a strange sense of incongruity washed over me.
This world's Odin's Son felt familiar yet alien. The system hadn't changed much from Tyr. It made sense, since it was originally planned as DLC. Most players probably wouldn't notice any differences.
But to me, someone who'd devoured over a thousand hours every year—chewing, tearing, and licking it clean—that subtle creep of déjà vu hit different.
It wasn't just that the system had evolved with the sequel...
It felt like reliving something I'd experienced long ago. Pure déjà vu.
"...The hitboxes feel off."
I brought down the broken straight sword overhead several times. The familiar sensation clashed with the rhythm, grating on my nerves.
Something was wrong.
Or maybe... this was the normal one.
Thinking about it, in this world, I didn't exist. Neither did the builds I'd developed.
So naturally, none of the bug-exploiting builds I'd uncovered or the emergency submarine patches that followed.
The realization hit me like a truck. I immediately checked the rune system as a test, but in the tutorial section, there were no runes to equip.
Still, I couldn't help but chuckle. Excitement bubbled up, and I struggled to contain my grin.
I sorted my thoughts and headed into the open world. The graphics had definitely improved. After clinging to an 11-year-old relic of a game, jumping into this shiny new one felt fresh all over again.
Of course, graphics weren't the only upgrade.
Rainbows shimmered here and there across the field.
"Ugh...!!"
I suddenly recalled how in Odin's Son, newbies had gone extinct—no one left behind summon signals anymore. Tears welled up unbidden.
"Yeah. This is how the world should be."
Brimming with emotion, I basked in the newbie's warmth for a good while before following the rainbow's trail.
Something like a horse-headed locust midway ambushed me, but it was nothing major. True to the tutorial map, its patterns were straightforward.
Still, a boss was a boss. Shimmering rainbows clustered nearby.
Lost in nostalgia as I scanned the surroundings, I opened my inventory.
"Let's see. Heimdall's seal..."
Rummaging through the important items list, there it was. The item I wanted, waiting with a fresh new icon.
After newbies dried up completely, I'd forgotten all about it... What a trip down memory lane.
Grinning ear to ear, I stamped it on the ground. Rainbow light began to ripple. Whoa, even the effects got an upgrade.
"?"
Right now?
-Hiiing!!!
I gauged the distance to the incoming hoof.
A newbie would roll backward here, but that's not the best choice. Against a boss bigger and longer-reaching than the player, rolling prematurely just gets you homing-killed.
The proper way is mastering the iframe timing on rolls.
The 'Rainbow Gatekeeper Gleipnir' I was facing now was no different.
Its patterns were designed for players to dodge by rolling and learn stamina management in the process.
I could feel the developers' thoughtful design.
But for a player somewhat versed in the game, there's an easier, more comfortable path.
After dodging a few attacks, I got a read on its reach. From then on, I walked the boundary line.
Slipping in and out of that edge to bait patterns.
When attacks slowed and the boss's stamina filled, I rolled backward to create space... Now!
I raised the broken straight sword overhead and brought it down.
The jutting hitbox of the broken straight sword clashed with the ferocious leaping hoof's hitbox.
A typical newbie trading blows with a boss is suicide, but for a seasoned player, the story changes.
You precisely land the input afterimage on the charging hoof's hitbox.
-Clang!!
A blue aura sparked between us.
Like sparks flying from a blacksmith's quench.
The boss staggered back briefly.
And I took zero damage.
The judgment where attack frames interlock: Offset.
Of course, the boss took no damage either, so as the horse reared up and resumed attacking, I had to roll along the ground again.
But it wasn't meaningless. The stamina drain from the offset was definitely stacking.
-Clang!!
-Clang!!
A few more like this...
-Thud!
And instead of metal clashing, the groggy effect sound rings out.
I fed the front slash to the slumping horse-head. Jammed the blade into its thick neck and shoved with my whole body, sending it flying.
Damage from the broken straight sword was pitiful, but groggy has fixed damage, so seven or eight reps did the trick.
Tedious repetition until then.
Kept rolling to evade the hooves, feeding offsets whenever a pattern with solid timing popped.
As I mindlessly chopped away, a distant memory surfaced.
In the previous timeline, this game—Hel: Odin's Daughter, not even worthy of a proper title and just called the side story—originally started as DLC.
The Tyr: Odin's Son I'd poured 10,000 hours into was undeniably a masterpiece. It overhauled the dated systems and charted a new path for the series.
Before launch, it garnered overwhelming praise from reviewers, building hype that exploded into critical acclaim upon release.
Stellar boss monsters, vast open world, exquisite artwork—nothing fell short. No wonder I'd devoted my life to it.
But even a god game can't beat time.
No matter how massive the content, it eventually runs dry.
That's the way of the world. Stagnant water festers.
By the 4-5 year mark, players at their peak had fully stagnated.
Around this point, players started going weird.
Dancing ballet with bosses in starter gear up Dark Canyon became front-page gallery material.
Arena was parry spam central, and if you hadn't seen the ending, you weren't even called a newbie anymore.
And the veterans would lament.
These days' newbies lack grit; new bosses are too easy.
...Did this game kinda deserve to die?
No, screw that!! No way!!
My life game didn't flop because of itself.
It was all the developers' fault.
If they hadn't pulled that nightmare bullshit, it wouldn't have tanked so hard.
The nightmare I hated recalling crept back up.
It was around the 5-year anniversary, right?
Asgard announced Niflheim as DLC, then radio silence.
We waited necks craned through 3rd, 4th, 5th years—nothing but half-assed notices. Bug fixes galore, but zero word on DLC or sequels.
Dejected, we wandered the internet wilds.
Crawling the dirt for any scrap of clue. Game shows like E3 were baseline; we raided every platformer presser.
Starving for content, on the verge of rage-quitting for good, just as we debated patching up our fractured skulls...
[We're thrilled to finally bring you new news.]
The devs smashed our heads with Mjolnir.
[Our next game, originally in DLC development, ballooned so much in scope that it'll launch as a full sequel.]
They cracked my skull wide open. I climbed onto the operating table, stripped bare and in my undies, declaring: On this table, Odin's Son and I become one.
Everyone praised Asgard Software Inc., stocks skyrocketed.
Potbelly Uncle even bought the dip, posting retirement plan.jpg to the gallery—roasted eternally.
Trolls popped up now and then, but the Gallery Lord's hammer...
Wait, thinking back, that pisses me off.
...The more I think, the angrier I get?
Those who bailed back then were right?
Yeah. The ones with intact skulls always pick the winning side.
The 6-year notice was Asgard's last. Then long silence.
7th anniversary.
8th.
9th.
And the 10th, everyone hyped as the 'King God' moment, staring at that final leaf.
No word from Odin's Son. No streams, notices, not even basic SNS.
Year 11, right after I returned—did any news break then?
Who knows.
I lost a bet and ended up here; the comment that lured me was vague from the start.
I hope Potbelly Uncle and the crew were still having a blast with Odin's Son in that world...
-Hiiing!!!
Mechanically offsetting while lost in thought, my HP bottomed out quick.
Phase 2 kicked in, but just a straightforward offbeat added—nothing else.
For a new boss after 6 years of waiting, it felt kinda underwhelming.