"The Wise Wolf… Holo?"
"Mmhmm. What about it?" Holo replied casually. "That's what the humans of Midgard call me. They even worship me as a god of harvest. It's pretty amusing."
Samael snapped back to his senses, his gaze flickering as he fell into thought.
The legend of the Wise Wolf Holo, a symbol of abundance and harvest, would not truly spread until the European Middle Ages, when it became popular across northern regions such as Germany, France, and Slavic lands.
Under the Druidic belief in animism, people commonly imagined grain spirits taking the form of wolves or dogs. In harvest-related customs, both dogs and wolves were regarded as incarnations of grain spirits. In many parts of Mecklenburg, Germany, the saying of the "Grain Wolf" was especially widespread. They believed the wolf sat hidden within the final sheaf of grain. Whoever cut or bound that last sheaf was said to have "caught the wolf," meaning they had touched the harvest deity and received its blessing.
Through this, people prayed for a bountiful harvest and a prosperous life in the coming year.
However, in the present era, the harvest god of the Nordic lands was Freyr of the Vanir. The idea of the Wise Wolf Holo had yet to truly take root, remaining little more than casual talk among rural folk.
As for the future, that was another matter entirely.
From what Samael knew, Nordic myths exerted a profound influence on Celtic and Irish mythological systems. Germany, lying within that sphere of cultural influence, also preserved its own variants of Nordic epics.
For example, the dragon-slayer Sigurd who appeared in the Volsunga Saga later became the prototype for the German heroic epic The Nibelungenlied and the opera The Ring of the Nibelung. Thus, Siegfried, the protagonist of The Nibelungenlied, shared the same origin as Sigurd.
Likewise, in Nordic mythology, it was the warrior king Sigurd who drew the divine sword Gram from the great tree, a sword embedded there by a nameless old man who was an incarnation of the chief god Odin.
This blade, also known as the "Sword in the Tree," was destroyed and reforged, symbolizing both glory and annihilation. In theory, it served as the prototype for the legend of the Sword in the Stone wielded by King Arthur.
All in all, Nordic mythology and the later Celtic and Irish legends shared many intertwined traditions.
Perhaps the world-destroying demon wolf Fenrir standing before him might one day truly become the Wise Wolf Holo, a symbol of abundance and harvest.
All of a sudden, something seemed to click in Samael's mind. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Holo, who was standing there with her chin lifted, a faintly smug expression on her face.
"You've been sneaking out of Asgard to Midgard again lately, haven't you?"
"Staying in Asgard is boring to death," Holo said, rolling her eyes. "Other than Uncle Tyr, those Aesir put on a nice face, but deep down they're both scared of me and hate me. It's way better to sneak off to Midgard's wheat fields and take a nap."
"You have no idea. Jump into a lake for a bath, then lie out in the fields soaking up the afternoon sun, breathing in the scent of ripening wheat. Or suddenly dash out and scare the humans and wild rabbits. With places like that, why would I go suffer in the Golden Palace?"
Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, clearly delighted by the memory.
"And whose fault do you think that is?" Samael snapped, his face dark as he brought up her crime, looking utterly exasperated. "You stole and ate the divine sheep that pull Thor's chariot!"
"How many times have I told you?" he continued bitterly. "Those divine sheep that pull Thor's war chariot are creations born of Freyr's authority as the god of harvest. They can regenerate endlessly. We're only supposed to eat the meat, then wrap the bones in their hides, infuse them with a bit of ether, and wait for them to revive on their own. As long as the bones and hides are intact, those divine beasts will be perfectly fine."
"But you? You didn't just steal them. You slaughtered both of them and didn't even spit out the bones!"
"What's even worse is—haven't I told you two a million times? When something happens, don't panic. Clean up the scene!"
Samael kept ranting, and the worldview he was pushing along with it got more and more crooked.
"It hadn't even been two days before it blew up in our faces. I ended up fighting that violent maniac Thor, and now every muscle in my body hurts…"
"And you've got the nerve to blame me?" Holo snapped. Her teeth ground together as she bared her fangs, clearly furious. "I did the work too, so why did you get the biggest share? And then you sold me out!"
"How is that the same?" Samael shot back, righteous as ever. "At worst, my crimes were poor supervision and getting tricked. I'm a coerced accomplice."
"You're the main culprit!" he continued, laying it on thick with a full-on "this is for your own good" tone. "If you dare steal Thor's sheep today, then tomorrow you'll dare bite Odin to death! If we don't lock you up, who do we lock up?!
"I even told you back then things were tense and you should lie low and stop causing trouble, but you wouldn't listen. How is that my fault?!"
"Tch. Don't think I don't know," Holo sneered, folding her arms. The more she thought, the more suspicious her eyes became. "Things were tense because you stole Thor's sheep dozens of times. You practically starved them. They got skinny by several rounds. Of course he got wary."
"Otherwise, how would he have tracked you down that fast? And come straight to you looking for a fight?!"
Samael instinctively rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes flickering as he avoided her stare.
Back then, as Thor became more and more vigilant against thieves, the steady supply of delicious lamb gradually dried up. And somehow, on someone's desk, tempting lamb recipes started appearing, along with "safe routes" for getting in and out of Thor's temple.
And what a coincidence. On the day it happened, Thor had been conveniently lured away, and Heimdall the Watcher just happened to be drunk.
It hadn't seemed strange at the time, but now that she added it all up, it felt a little too perfect.
On top of that, Thor had already recovered the sheepskins and bones, and yet she had been kept confined for an oddly long time.
All at once, Holo remembered the expression on Samael's face when she was hauled away, that look of "what a disgrace to the family," all pained and dramatic. Realization hit her like a hammer.
Her brows shot up, eyes blazing. She raised her claws and went straight for that handsome face, raking at him in a flurry.
"So that's it! All the nasty things you did, you dumped them on me, didn't you?!"
"Hey, hey, hey, stop!" Samael yelped, scrambling back as his cover was blown. "It's not like you didn't eat what I stole!"
"You ate more than I did!"
"I have a big appetite! Force majeure! What do you want me to do? And I was the one cooking!"
"Jörmungandr, you shameless traitor!" Holo shouted, completely losing it. "You framed me! I'm your sister, your actual sister! And you ate my sheep! Spit it out right now!"
"What can you even do out there besides acting cute and calling a couple times?" Samael fired back, shamelessly twisting it around. "I stayed behind so I could talk things through and clean up the mess for you. And didn't it work? I got you out and brought you outside for a change of air! If you don't want to thank me, fine, but do you really have to repay kindness with betrayal?!"
"You filthy snake! Traitor! Die!"
Under the furious, stormlike assault of a certain "evil wolf," Samael clutched his head and bolted, fleeing the bedroom in a sorry state.
The door slammed shut behind him with a boom.
Samael calmly brushed the dust off himself, showing not the slightest remorse over setting his own sister up.
He wasn't someone who acted without a sense of proportion. Even now, the Aesir still held a certain wariness toward the three siblings tied to the prophecy.
If he acted too unusually kind, it would only look suspicious, like he was plotting something.
So he kept it to constant small mistakes while never crossing the line into a true disaster. That was Samael's way of reducing the perceived threat posed by the three of them, so Odin would not start thinking he was aiming for a power grab.
Besides, no one would ever connect a couple of sheep-stealing troublemakers… fine, two troublemakers… with Ragnarok.
Just as Samael fell into thought, Brynhildr came toward him on deck, spear planted as she stood guard, with three Valkyries following at her side.
...
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