As the dwelling place of Odin, King of Gods, this palace at the very center of Asgard—the highest realm atop the World Tree—had always been where the gods gathered.
The halls possessed a splendor and grandeur no mortal world could ever compare to. Not even the endless pale mountains, nor the vast sea and sky that inspired awe in all who beheld them, could match the shock this place inspired.
The gods loved this palace, just as they all revered mighty yet benevolent Odin.
And by the time Thor's earthshaking arrival rode flashing lightning straight into the palace, the gods within had already assembled.
Thor came to a halt, his figure emerging from the storm.
He was immensely tall, his entire body encased in silver-white armor, with only the same silver-white hair spilling from his head. In his hand he held Mjolnir, the hammer of thunder and battle, while faint blue cubes spun ceaselessly around both hands and at his chest.
Among the gods, he was the warrior closest to the King of Gods, the God of Thunder nearest to the World Tree itself.
It was said that nearly ten thousand years ago, Thor had died once. Odin had revived him through the power of the World Tree and granted him even greater strength.
"Oh my, my... who managed to anger the great Thor this badly?" The moment Thor stepped into Valaskjálf, none of the gods dared face the menace of that thunder head-on. Only one person approached, a careless smile still hanging at the corner of their lips.
"Loki. I have no desire to speak to you." Thor's voice came muffled from beneath the armor, thick and heavy, its exact tone impossible to make out.
He looked toward the approaching figure. Slender of frame, draped in a pale blue gown that swayed like the azure heavens, with brilliant golden hair framing delicate features—yet for all that beauty, there was something utterly flippant in the way they moved.
But in the face of such "beauty," Thor's eyes held nothing but contempt. "A worthless thing dressed up as a woman has no right to speak to me, Loki!"
"Gods have no fixed sex to begin with, and change is simply my instinct as the god of trickery!" Loki did not care in the slightest. But as soon as the words fell, that graceful, lovely figure vanished in an instant, leaving behind only a lean, lanky silhouette.
He wore a felt cap, his nose slightly red, red-and-blue clothes hanging from his frame, looking exactly like the "clown" later ages would know so well—or rather, perhaps those later clowns had taken their cue from Loki, the Norse God of Trickery, in the first place.
He spread both hands. "Why be so irritable when you're alive? Or is it that little princess's 'betrayal' that has you this angry? Don't tell me you like her too?"
"Meaningless emotions have no effect on me." Thor threw down those words, brushed past Loki, and strode inward.
The gods around him stood in shifting silhouettes. Then another god spoke. "Thor, what exactly happened?"
The one asking was another famous god of the Norse pantheon—Tyr, Thor's brother, the other God. Thor was nowhere near as cold to him as he was to Loki.
And at this moment, all the gods were waiting for Thor's explanation.
They wanted the full truth about the ruler of the giants, the King of the Wild Hunt, and Skadi's betrayal.
Because it concerned the future of the Norse gods themselves.
So the God of Thunder spoke—
...
Within the hall of the gods, Thor raised his voice in warning. The king of the underground giants had returned, carrying his authority and his wrath. The shadow of the past still lingered over this ancient land that had once been shattered. Thor bid the gods keep strict watch, for that giant who had stolen the name of the Wild Hunt would surely bring disaster and storm.
'In the name of death, he covets the halls of heaven. In the name of divinity, he steals the throne of heaven and earth. He has taken away the purest maiden, taken away Asgard's white snowy mountains.
This is an omen of Ragnarok.
...
The gods were horrified.
Only Loki swayed his head from side to side, letting out a strange, snickering laugh. Of all the gods, only the god of sophistry delighted in change.
Loki said, "That sounds wonderful. This land has been frozen for too long, stood still for too long. It's about time something stirred—"
"I'll speak to the Allfather." Ignoring Loki completely, Thor left those words behind and turned as if to push open the inner doors.
"There is no need. I already know."
An illusory, distant voice rang out. The beat of wings echoed through the hall as black ravens perched atop pillars and eaves.
The ravens were among Odin's messengers. They brought Odin's will to the gods:
"Remain on strict guard. For now, do not provoke that man."
"The time has not yet come."
When those words fell, the flock scattered, leaving only the gods in the hall exchanging looks. Thor's hand tightened around Mjolnir, his face hidden behind the heavy mask, concealing nearly all trace of expression.
Do not provoke that man for now.
Then...
"If we can't take the initiative, cleaning out the traitor in our midst should still be allowed, shouldn't it?" Thor had never been a calm god to begin with.
As the God of Thunder, he longed all the more to battle the strong.
As far as he was concerned, there had never been any such thing as a second option.
And in truth, he had obeyed Odin's will.
He would not take the initiative to provoke Rovi.
Loki's eyes shifted, and a strange smile curled across his face.
...
"I won't say a thing..."
"Mhm, I figured as much. Looks like my guess was right." In Jotunheim, Rovi looked at Skadi and smiled. "So as gods, you people basically don't handle anything yourselves."
If you already knew that, why ask me?
Skadi's eyes widened slightly as she looked at the "young man" before her. He was smiling, but the deathly aura around him had only grown thicker.
Rovi brushed at the fur drifting over his shoulder. Around him, the giants all lay prostrate on the ground, awaiting his command.
Above them hung the descending roots of the World Tree, dangling as though they had fallen from beyond the heavens, casting one dark and dreadful shadow after another across Jotunheim's eternally yellow sky.
Parched earth. Jagged rubble. Dry riverbeds stretching out in mottled, broken trails.
The giants' home was barren and terrifying.
But that was the past.
Rovi had said he would lead the giants charging back into the heavens.
And if he had said it, then naturally he meant to do it.
"How... are you planning to do that?" Skadi suddenly found herself curious. Bringing giants into Midgard, the realm of reality, was practically impossible.
Never mind the gods' refusal to permit it. The rejection of the World Tree itself was already a force almost no one could resist.
After all, it was a divine creation personally planted by Odin, who had brought the Norse Age of Gods back from the brink of collapse after the disaster caused by the Vanguard of the Umbral Star ten thousand years ago. And upon that tree grew the nine-dimensional realms. Odin himself had once said that once the World Tree had fully grown, not even he could shake it.
Rovi was strong. He had crossed blows with Thor without falling behind, even forcing him into a brief retreat. His power far exceeded anything Skadi had imagined.
But the Ski Goddess still did not believe he could surpass Odin.
And so she shrank back before Rovi.
The stubbornness from that earlier interrogation still lingered on her delicate face beneath her long purple hair. Her arms were folded in front of her, but the lowered angle of her body pushed the curve beneath her skirt back, tracing a smooth butterfly-like line across her hips.
Rovi glanced at her sidelong and could not help laughing.
He had kept Skadi here to get information out of her. Asking questions was only natural. Even though she kept dodging him and refusing to answer, it had to be said... a goddess who had never really seen the world was not all that different from some sheltered little girl in the mortal world, especially the kind who had been pampered in everyone's palms up until now.
Rovi could read the answer from her face alone.
'Are the Norse gods scattered across the land like you are?
'I'm not telling you.'
'Mm... then that means yes.'
'?'
'Can the Norse gods still maintain their full strength while on the earth?'
'I'm not saying.'
'Then that means they can.'
'You...'
That bizarre exchange—so strange it felt almost like mind-reading—had left a certain shadow in Skadi's mind.
Of course, that was before.
As for now... when she had instinctively asked what Rovi planned to do, the answer was actually very simple.
This journey was different from before, after all. Whether in Mesopotamia or Greece, Rovi had never truly set foot on Norse soil until now.
Because then, he had only been one of the dead.
One of the dead who had failed to leave any trace upon this world.
But now, he was the King of the Wild Hunt.
The king of the dead and storms, having seized one facet of Odin for himself.
So then...
"Let this world witness what death looks like when storm has seeped into it!"
His cloak streamed behind him, wild winds roaring, as Rovi raised the long spear in his hand.
He would use the power of the Wild Hunt to blanket Midgard. He would use death to erode the present world...
And with this single thrust, he would punch a hole straight through Midgard itself!
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T/N: heres ur updates :3 meeting the 4 chaps a week quota :3 posting earlier so bonus chaps will be a longer waitttt >:)
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