In Loki's Honor Life 36 - Chapter 9 - Career Choice

The hunting expedition with the Vikings was exciting, interesting, but it showed where I stood in this new realm. My MIRV Force javelins should've shredded that worm. The Origami Eidolon should've fought at least in equal footing against the monster. And my own physical prowess should make killing it myself in Glorious lee Combat™ as easy as a child dissecting an ordinary earthworm.

I've dealt billions of points of damage with a single sword swing. Given, the cut I gave the Böggdra Bögvar with the adamantite thinblade was nasty but it was basically the worm cutting itself against a very sharp object. All I did was to hold it in place and not get raked to death by its claws.

Yes, I was salty. I was no longer the big fish in the small pond, giving gods sass and more than black eyes. Worse, my own mana reserves were pitifully unprepared for the expense I incurred during the expedition. Like any old archmage reincarnated, I ran into a mana debt [1].

That's why I spent the last two days sitting in my bedroom, refilling Kel'Kaldor's Phylactery. Thankfully, the mana of this realm was thick enough that my ravenous absorption barely put a dent on its density. But the exercises to improve my natural mana regeneration were second nature to . It left with a lot of ti to think and brood.

My sulking was interrupted by a knock on the wall. "Goddess Haru, a visitor is here to see you," A Dvergar voice said. Probably so library acolyte. Ragnar had dozens of them around.

"Enter," I replied.

The door opened. The acolyte ushered inar in. The Viking champion thumped her solar plexus with a fist and then showed her palm.

"Heil ok sæl!" She said with a smile.

I returned the greeting, affirming that we saw each other as equals. I could claim a higher status as I was a "goddess" but the amount of divine energy I could command was pitiful. This far removed from Yznarian and my worshipers, I also had nothing in the Saintess tank, so to speak. Until Loki ca around with that divine core, and if I decided to take it, I was a goddess in nothing but na.

"Take a seat," I said before the situation could beco awkward. inar stood there like a soldier during an inspection.

"You slipped during the celebration," she said as she pulled the desk chair.

"I have a special condition; it would be disrespectful for to approach Odin's temple without express permission."

Stealing divinity from the Aesir boss and sending it to Loki would be close to a declaration of war. I had no idea what my standing was with the Norse gods but it was presumptions of to even assu I had one beside being Loki's...

Better not finish that sentence.

"We got what we needed from King Hrothgar. Now it's ti to journey back to Midgard."

"I wish you safe travels," I said. "And sorry for ditching you without warning."

"You had your reasons, I'm sure of that. In any case, Odin didn't take offense," inar said with a soothing voice as I raised an eyebrow. "He spoke to ."

Of course He did. inar was the main character of her own epic. Not many could claim that.

"The girls wished to give this to you," she produced a carved bear claw pendant with a twine string. It was from our worm friend as it was too big to belong to a proper bear. Runic symbols covered the claw, so crude, so refined. It was obvious the runes weren't carved by the sa person. "This is proof of our friendship. Show it to any Viking and an offense against you becos an offense against ."

I proudly threw the loop of twine around my head, letting the claw rest against my decolletage. "Thank you. I'll treasure this."

"Our skalds will sing songs of your magical prowess. It was amazing to see you use magic without the use of an implent, sothing our own casters said to be impossible."

My ears flicked at that complint. Back in Yznarian, mages and wizards used staves and wands only for the enchantnts they had or if they had so System Perk related to the implent. It was sothing I avoided as I didn't like to depend on tools. However, back in Yznarian, the System did the heavy lifting of the spellcasting process. To so adventurers who only cared about results, casting a spell was different from clicking a button on a computer screen with one's mouse only because they didn't have computers or mice to click with.

"Your modesty is refreshing," inar said to fill the silence as I just stood there in shock. "A humble deity, who would've imagined."

"I imagine here's plenty humble deities but I'm in a transition phase. It is the first ti I leave my world and I'm too far away from my worshipers."

"Of course," inar answered diplomatically.

We talked for a quarter of an hour about the next leg on inar's journey, which was to ferry the ore and tal they gained from the Dvergar to make weapons for them.

*

*

In the afternoon, I finally traded my room for the library halls. There, I waved to an acolyte. The young Dvergar quickly made his way to .

"How may I help, Goddess Haru?" He asked respectfully.

"I need information on basic magic technique. A prir for spellcaster apprentices of sorts. Also, sothing about implents for magic and how to craft them."

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"Absolutely. I'll do my best to—"

"Actually," I interrupted when the overeager acolyte was about to dash after the beginner books.

"Yes?"

"Make it about tallurgy, crafting with tal, crafting with monster parts, alchemy, enchanting, and cosmology." The last one was the odd guy out.

This ti, the acolyte didn't dash away. "Anything else?"

"No. That'll be it for today, thank you."

"It's our pleasure, honored guest," he said before turning around and walking to pick the books I needed slower, this ti.

*

*

This was what I should be using my ti on. At that point, I felt like a backwater redneck who roughhoused a solution to every problem. With a hamr, probably. A taphorical hamr. What I needed to act as soone who belonged in the greater scene was knowledge.

Yes, I felt stupid as I let the realization sink. Was this why Loki took to this library? To break my bad habits and let improve my crafts? I doubted it. Loki must've had so nefarious motive for this and learning sothing useful was only a side benefit. It could be so secret Ragnar was guarding, stolen through the Encyclopedia. Or it could be nothing. He took here to keep Ragnar, myself, and whoever else was watching guessing.

The first book I read was on magical traditions. They were as plentiful as the stars above the firmant, which was poetic in nature but allowed the author, a Ljósálfar arcanist, to figure out the basic elents of spellcasting.

The first and most common one was the geotric shaping. Wizards like did that with their spell circles, using the mana constructs to tell the magic what to do. It was very strict, inflexible, but predictable and easy to master. So long a person could draw the correct diagram, the spell would happen once fed enough mana.

Then the emotional shaping. Sorcerers and Warlocks used their own emotions, feelings, and sheer willpower to shape the mana or beat it into submission, respectively. If the Wizard was an orchestra musician playing a legacy instrunt, a sorcerer was a rapper, doing the beatbox with his own mouth while singing his song. And the Warlock was soone who kit-bashed his own instrunt using a sledgehamr to beat tal and wood into submission. But emotional shaping could do anything, even what the caster hadn't intended. Without a limit, even. Sotis, the spell was so grandiose it devoured the caster's body and soul to fuel itself.

The third type was the sympathetic shaping. The domain of witches, druids, hedge mages, and shamans. Hedge mage was a catchall category that included most unschooled casters who stumbled into magic and their descendants. Psychic "crystal ball" clairvoyants, for example. They were usually extrely limited to a single gimmick or two. Sympathetic shaping used a lot of symbolism and related things, like using a straw doll to harm a person. But it also had no range if the relationship was strong enough.

It was quite similar to what we knew in Yznarian, making believe the System core was pre-loaded with so knowledge. I asked Tuisto but he didn't reply or react. It made ponder. Did I want to go down the path of spellcasting? I needed a focus for this life, a goal to strive toward.

Before making a decision, I started reading the book on implents. The suspicion I ford after talking to inar confird itself. Staves, wands, and other implents were collectively called foci and they helped the caster to shape and concentrate their mana. From higher potency to better aiming or lower costs, a focus could offer all sorts of benefits.

In Yznarian, under the System, foci were useless unless they gave buffs or stats. The System's guidance made up for those benefits. I can only imagine the chaos it was after Loki yoinked the Core.

Didn't I already know enough magic? Bah.

I missed the System. Murder so, earn cool powers. Without training for years, ba-da-bum, here's a Perk on your lap. Centuries of easy power made complacent. Addicted.

No. No magic, no bookworming for . The Encyclopedia had all this library, at least the parts I could access, already copied. I could read this pile of books anyti in my next life.

The unique Myrkheim experience was not in this library. It was outside Nidavellir. In the tunnels, where monsters lurked and minerals hid.

As the idea ford in my mind, it felt right.

A regret I had was that Lily's life was cut too soon, too short. Truly, others were cut even shorter and sooner but they didn't even earn a na or a Class.

It was ti to brush the cobwebs and reinstate my [Monster Hunter] career.

*

*

I went back to Brynn's smithy to get outfitted. Yes, I could make my own armor, enchant it even, but I wanted to belong in Nidavellir. Dress the part. See if Dvergar armor was everything the legends sing about them.

But I needed money for that. Dvergar money. Brynn directed to an antique trader, soone who bought treasures from faraway lands. After parting with so junk, I had lying around in my infinite storage, I finally could afford to get decked in the best armor in all the nine realms.

Though it would take ti. Not even the old , boosted by all the System shenanigans, could make a full suit of armor in one go. I left Brynn with my asurents and wishes and went back to the library, to study on monsters, caverns, and mining in Myrkheim.

The realm had a self-regenerating property. Imagine this. Myrkheim has existed for hundreds of thousands of years. The Dvergar were very inclined to mine the shit out of it. Humanity, in less than ten thousand years of history, got close to deplete Earth of its minerals. The realm would eventually close unused tunnels and caverns at random, a process that took thousands upon thousands of years. But it was well-known that Myrkheim grew its minerals back.

The trick was that a tunnel or cavern needed to be almost forgotten by the sentient people living here for it to regrow. Anything well-traveled between two settlents, trade routes, their adjacent tunnels, and stuff charted on maps was bound to remain as they were. Just a ntion to a side tunnel scribbled on a parchnt was enough to keep it from closing.

It made sense. How would people keep their secret passages open otherwise? Perhaps this was just a justification using the phenonon to explain itself.

What I got away from all this was that I should move away from the city and then start digging wherever I sensed minerals. Old tunnels that were marked on a map were probably there, the old and forgotten ones might be, might be not. Confirming their existence would solidify that very concept, as far as the realm was concerned.

In a sense, the laws of physics didn't apply to the other eight realms the sa way it did to Midgard. Where did all the heat created in Muspelheim go to? Or all the heat sucked into Niflheim? What allowed the Jotunn to ignore the square-cube law when convenient to them?

*

*

A week later, I was ready. Brynn made a light plate armor for , one that was enchanted to change shapes along my body up to a degree. It could also use my mana to self-repair and was very resistant to damage. The finish was a dull guntal gray, matte as to not shine and reveal my position, and every plate and joint was treated and covered in so beast leather as to not make much noise while moving. The Matriarch's holy symbol adorned the center of the breastplate and pauldrons.

I wore it underneath Princess Alloralla's ancient living silk suit. It was the oldest surviving piece of living silk and it was very strong. It would be high level too if the System still existed but alas. As for armants, I had the Adamantite Thinblade on my waist, the scabbard almost horizontal because the weapon was so damn long. Strapped to my back was a better version of the humongous blade I tested myself with back then.

Everything else I needed was in my infinite dinsional storage.

Before I departed, I checked with the rchant guild to see if they had posted any bounties on monsters. Moving along the streets clad in obvious Dvergar armor did impose so respect but my small stature made look like a child playing soldier in the Dvergar's eyes.

The guild had nothing that interested . I went on, crossing the gates and into the wilderness.

[1]: a common occurence in "Keiran", by Ergency Complaints. s/fiction/77820