As a virtuous and thoroughly dedicated foodie, Garfield quickly concluded that life in Asgard, as someone's son, was actually quite pleasant.
As long as there was good food, becoming a god did not seem like an unreasonable career path.
As for what kind of god he was destined to be…
Unfortunately or perhaps inevitably, Garfield had inherited Hela's domain.
In the Northern pantheon, the God of Death was roughly equivalent to Anubis.
Was this fate?
Maybe.
Odin and Frigga did not remain long at the banquet. After making their presence felt, they withdrew, leaving the celebration in the hands of the three princes… Thor, Loki, and Garfield.
Thor and Loki were veterans of such occasions.
Loki drifted through the crowd with practiced ease, smiling where appropriate, vanishing where he was not wanted, largely because he was not particularly welcomed anywhere.
Thor, on the other hand, was in his element.
He hoisted an enormous wine cup, threw his arms around the shoulders of both familiar and unfamiliar, and challenged anyone he met to drink with him.
Garfield barely had time to react before he was surrounded.
Two races converged on him almost simultaneously… dwarves and elves.
On the dwarven side stood a craftsman named Iron Hammer, broad-shouldered and solid, his presence as steady as forged steel.
On the elven side were two fair-skinned, long-legged young women whose beauty was impossible to ignore.
The elder was named Angie.
The younger, Flan.
Both bore the surname Greenleaf.
They immediately reminded Garfield of a certain long-eared archer from distant legends, though unfortunately, not his type.
As for another peach-haired fellow he once knew… well, that one had ultimately fallen for a dwarf, crossing races entirely.
History was complicated.
One cat could not withstand two elves.
Garfield was swiftly lifted into Angie's arms, where she began stroking his fur with astonishing skill. The technique was far too practiced to be coincidental.
They definitely have cats at home, Garfield concluded.
"Ladies." He said with as much dignity as a kitten could muster while being held,
"Could you show a little restraint? I am, after all, a king. Please do not treat me like a house cat."
Flan tilted her head, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
"Why do you refer to yourself as that?" she asked. "Isn't that a bit disrespectful to Odin?"
Garfield turned to her and explained patiently. "First, in a cat's eyes, I am the king. All two-legged creatures are subjects."
"Second, I am the king of a kingdom."
He cleared his throat.
"My previous full title was His Majesty Garfield Pando Godzilla Pendragon I. You may call me Garfield I or simply Garfield."
Flan blinked. "But shouldn't your name be Garfield Odinson now?"
…Awkward. Garfield attempted to escape.
Unfortunately, Angie's grip was far stronger than expected.
Unable to break free, he resigned himself to remaining in her arms, enjoying the faint, natural scent of milk and flowers.
The cost was enduring relentless teasing from the two elves.
Nearby, Iron Hammer squatted silently. He made no move to greet the elves.
The dwarves and elves followed different paths, one grounded in magic and craftsmanship, the other steeped in mystery and nature.
Their interactions rarely went beyond formal trade.
After observing for a moment and apparently realizing that the elves had no intention of releasing Garfield anytime soon, Iron Hammer finally spoke.
"Greetings." He said solemnly.
"Respected Third Prince of Asgard, Garfield. I am Iron Hammer, dwarf craftsman. I bring greetings on behalf of His Majesty, King Eitri."
The formality caught Garfield off guard. Such courtesy deserved respect in return.
Garfield straightened as much as he could in Angie's arms and inclined his head slightly.
"Pleasure to meet you, Iron Hammer," Garfield said. "Later, please convey my greetings to your king, Eitri, and to all the dwarves."
"And tell me, do you know what you might do for me?"
Iron Hammer had not expected such approachability. His impression of Garfield rose instantly, surpassing even that of the notoriously silver-tongued Prince Loki.
"The All-Father has commissioned a set of divine artifacts for you as a welcoming gift." Iron Hammer replied respectfully.
"However, we do not yet know your personal preferences. After the ceremony, you may accompany me to the Star Ring and see for yourself."
At the words a set of artifacts, the ears of the two elves twitched almost imperceptibly.
That was a name worth reacting to.
A full set of divine equipment…
Garfield felt an inexplicable sense of déjà vu, as though he were a novice adventurer stepping out of a tutorial village, having just defeated a level-one scarecrow and somehow obtained a full legendary armor set.
A divine costume.
So does that mean I'm supposed to grind my way with 999,999 gold, find the Association, or maybe track down the final boss?
The mental image amused him greatly.
Garfield beckoned Iron Hammer closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
"Tell me something." He asked mysteriously. "Can you build a Gundam?"
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream