The air outside Fenrir's headquarters shimred faintly, as if the magic in the realm itself had paused to applaud my accomplishnt.
I held the Predator Security license in one hand and my phone in the other, unable to suppress the grin plastered across my face.
This was more than a certificate—it was proof that I, Carl Suis, a re human zoologist, had survived and outwitted trials designed for mythical predators.
But before I left, there was one final thing I needed.
"Hey, Fenrir," I said, trying to sound casual. "Mind if we grab a selfie?"
Fenrir, in his hulking wolf form, raised a skeptical brow—or at least what I assud was a brow. His amber eyes narrowed slightly, and his ears twitched.
"A selfie?" His voice rumbled, deep and gravelly, like distant thunder.
"Yes! You know, a photo? For mories. Milestone achievent and all that jazz."
Fenrir shifted into his human form in one smooth motion, his towering fra now clothed in a tailored suit that scread CEO of Wolfwork Solutions. He crossed his arms, smirking. "Do all humans commorate their survival with photos?"
"Only the smart ones," I quipped, holding up my phone. "C'mon, it's for the 'Gram."
The smirk widened. "Fine. One in each form. But if you use an unflattering filter, I'll make sure your next trial involves outrunning ."
I quickly snapped a photo with Fenrir in his human form, where he looked like a cross between a movie star and a billionaire tech mogul. Then, he shifted into his wolf form, his massive size barely fitting into the fra.
"Thanks, big guy," I said, pocketing my phone.
As I added him on Mythigram, I froze.
Fenrir wasn't just a mythological figure; he was a social dia legend.
His profile glead with a golden checkmark and labeled with Public Figure. He had millions of followers, including so of the most infamous gods and creatures from mythologies across the multiverse.
Thor had liked his latest post. Loki had left a snarky comnt. And the top of his profile read, 'Alpha. Legend. Predator Extraordinaire.'
"You're basically a celebrity," I muttered, glancing up at Fenrir.
"I'm surprised you're surprised," he replied, his tone dripping with amusent. "I don't do small."
I wasn't sure what stunned more—Fenrir's follower count or the realization that I now had a photo with soone who could cause a literal Ragnarok.
With a flick of his hand, Fenrir summoned a portal that shimred like liquid silver. "This will take you back to Troll City," he said. "Congratulations, Carl. You've proven you're more resourceful than most mortals I've encountered. Don't let it go to your head."
"? Never," I said, stepping through the portal with a grin.
The portal deposited into the heart of Troll City, its bustling marketplace alive with the chatter of traders, the clanging of hamrs, and the occasional roar of so unidentified beast.
I expected to see Agnos, the Troll Chief, and my Norse guide waiting anxiously for my triumphant return. After all, I'd just passed their so-called Rite of Passage.
Instead, I found them lounging on oversized stone chairs near a food stall, sipping what looked suspiciously like coconut water.
Agnos was laughing heartily, his cat belly shaking, while the Norse guide and translator were busy munching on so trollish snacks.
"Really?" I said, throwing my arms up in exasperation. "I survive death traps and mythical creatures, and you're all just... relaxing?"
Agnos glanced up, unfazed. "Oh, you're back. Took you long enough."
"Took —" I sputtered, my frustration rising. "You didn't think I might've, I don't know, died?"
The translator shrugged. "You seed resourceful. We weren't too worried."
I opened my mouth to retort, but then I caught myself. What was I expecting? Panic? A search party? This was Mythica, where life-threatening challenges were a Tuesday afternoon.
"Fine," I muttered. "Guess I'll just show myself off then."
I pulled out the Conflict diator license and held it up triumphantly. "Passed. Record-breaking status. No big deal."
Agnos's eyes widened, and he let out a bellowing laugh. "You broke the record? That's fantastic!" He leapt on to on the back so hard I nearly faceplanted. "This calls for a feast!"
The Troll Chief himself waddled over, his enormous fra casting a shadow that could probably shelter a small village. He extended a hand toward , his grin revealing teeth the size of gravestones.
"Well done, human," he said.
"Wait," I said, blinking. "You speak English?"
The chief chuckled. "Of course. But it's more entertaining to watch outsiders struggle with trollish. Builds character."
My jaw dropped. "You an all those awkward conversations, all those translations—you could've just spoken to us the whole ti?"
"Correct," he said, his grin widening. "But I found you trustworthy. Anyone willing to learn our language deserves my cooperation."
I wasn't sure whether to laugh or strangle him.
********
True to his word, Agnos with the help of the troll chief organized a feast that put every other celebration I'd seen in Mythica to sha.
Long tables groaned under the weight of roasted boar, honeyed pastries, and fruit that glowed faintly in the dim light. Troll musicians played jaunty tunes on instrunts I couldn't even begin to na, and the air was thick with the scent of spices and the sound of laughter.
I sat at the head table, flanked by Agnos and the chief, feeling more like a king than a zoologist.
"So," Agnos said, leaning over, "we need to retrieve my last fragnt located sowhere near the Troll city. But it might not be safe." Googlᴇ search NoveIꜰire
I thought about it for a mont. "Not surprising. Probably so more life-threatening nonsense. It's becoming a the."
The Troll Chief suddenly stood up and raised his goblet for a toast. "To Carl! We are honored and fortunate to have him pass the most difficult Rite of Passage Trials for trolls. Now, we are qualified to hire conflict diators for the betternt of our territories and to handle future disputes with others."
"No, the pleasure is mine. It's not a big deal. Really. You don't have to..." I began, flustered.
The troll chief laughed heartily. "Well, whatever it is, you've earned your place among us today. You're the only outsider to have passed our Rite of Passage. Wear it with pride. And with that, I officially announce that Carl will be our Conflict and Disputes diator! To Carl!"
The crowd erupted in cheers and shouted their agreent in unison.
I smiled, the weight of the past trials montarily lifting.
But as the feast raged on, a faint nagging thought word its way into my mind. Fenrir's portal had been precise, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that sending back here—rather than The Winged Hall—had been intentional.
Why?
And why did the Troll Chief's grin seem just a little too knowing when he looked at ?
As I bit into a fruit, my Mythigram buzzed with a notification. Fenrir had tagged in a post: "Survived the trials. Clever human. Follow him @Carl_Saves_the_Day."
The caption was followed by a winking emoji.
Great. Now Mythica knew who I was.
Then Agnos suddenly said, "Chief, since Carl passed the trial, we might as well claim the favor we requested before."
I glanced at Agnos, who was now lazily sipping on his piña colada as though we weren't about to throw the Chief a curveball. The Troll Chief, still smiling, shifted his gaze between and Agnos. "Yes, we agreed to honor our word. What is the favor you seek?"
Agnos straightened, his tone turning serious. "We would like to enter the Forbidden Dungeon."
The Troll Chief's smile froze mid-expression, then faded entirely. The room seed to grow heavier, the festive atmosphere replaced with an ominous silence. His grim expression made it painfully clear: our request was far from ordinary. Probably sothing most beings with common sense wouldn't even consider.
I leaned down toward Agnos's small, feline stature, trying to keep my voice low but urgent. He was an Unknown God in the form of a purple cat, so everyone could clearly see conversing with him like so sort of lunatic.
"What are you doing? Read the room, will you?" I hissed through a strained smile. Then I leaned closer, whispering again. "Why ask for this favor now? Can't it wait until the feast is over?"
Agnos gave a pointed look. "The last fragnt is inside that Forbidden Dungeon. We're pressed for ti, Carl."
My stomach dropped. "W-wait, the last fragnt is in there? So if I get it, I'm free from you, right?" Despite the dread creeping in, the thought of finally going back to the CCP gave a flicker of hope.
Agnos grinned, his sharp teeth showing. "Yes. If you survive, of course."
I groaned. "Can't you at least try to be encouraging? Just once? A sprinkle of hope? Maybe sothing positive for morale?"
"I'm being realistic, Carl. The Forbidden Dungeon is dangerous."
Before I could fire back, the Troll Chief slamd a massive bludgeon hamr onto the table in front of us, the wooden surface splintering under the force.
"I'm afraid we cannot allow you to enter the Forbidden Dungeon," he declared, his voice echoing with finality. "Please reconsider your request."
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