Chapter 1150: Chapter 148 Lao Luo’s Favor is Not Yet Repaid
Midgard, Iron Forest.
The dark night spread everywhere like thick ink, as if a black tar-like flow surging over a devastated ice field, subrging the bones of dwarves, elves, humans, giants, and even deities.
Crack~~
A massive foot fell, shattering the remnants of several floating battleships, as dozens of malford creatures moved with the slick, sticky sound of waves, passing through the deathly silent woods and arriving in front of a towering wall.
There, life was brimming with vitality.
Instinct told them this was a perfect delicacy.
However, just as a few creatures under the cover of night reached forward, prepared to seek out hidden prey, several frost-blue arcs shot out from behind the battlents.
The creatures’ large heads and their twisted bodies exploded violently, turning into scattered ice shards falling to the ground.
The black tide surging across the ground also froze, forming various twisted, grotesque shapes.
Shaking off the frost on her body, Heluo gazed at the thick darkness beyond the Iron Forest, her brow furrowing unconsciously.
Seven days had passed since the Divine War in Muspelheim ended.
Although Giant King Lafei, the main culprit, had been successfully defeated, the aftermath of this turmoil continued to affect the Nordic World, even causing the entire Divine Era’s environnt and geography to undergo drastic changes.
Heluo looked up towards the sky:
Thunderbolt turned into black amber, the remnants of stars had crusted between the clouds, the aurora frozen into a suspended cobalt-blue network of veins. The once brilliant Sun had collapsed into a lightless black hole, the withered branches of the World Tree piercing its edges, the once glorious coronal mass congealed into tar-like tentacles devouring all surrounding light and warmth. Sinister and horrifying cracks snaked across the sky’s surface, as if leading straight into the Abyss. From the fissures, dark, gelatinous substance dripped continuously, solidifying into reverse-growing crystal clusters upon landing.
Then she cast her gaze toward the earth:
White ice fangs rose upon the sea, waves froze in their aggressive posture, becoming an inverted grave of swords, daunting the onlookers. Animals, plants, and battle ships that failed to evacuate were sealed in ice-blue crystal clusters, becoming eternal artworks. In the biting cold winds, iron wailed as it curled into a fetal shape, the flas in fire pits sprouting ice crystal shells, regurgitating the last heat into silver mice devouring mories. The black mud tide surged from the fallen realms of Fire Country, Mist Country, and Giant Country, consuming all warmth and vitality along the route, repeatedly striking along the Iron Forest line.
Within the dense darkness, transford giants dragged their malford, bloated bodies, roaming and hunting. Even in death, the toxic blood within them continued to corrode the earth’s vitality, leaving behind nearly indelible residues, much like walking cancer cells.
And the entire Nordic God Era was naturally the afflicted patient edging toward demise.
With the death of Balder, eternal noon envisioned by the Asa Divine Race shattered into a pathological dusk.
Glory and dawn might never ever arrive.
At this mont, what awaited this world was only Death…
“Ah-choo!”
Behind her, a loud sneeze interrupted Heluo’s contemplation. Xili rubbed her frostbitten nose, leading a shift of Viking Warriors forward and said:
“Lady Heluo, please take a rest; we’ll guard here just fine.”
Heluo turned back, looking at the group trembling in the cold wind, brows and hair encrusted with frost, hesitating slightly:
“Are you sure you can manage?”
“Don’t worry, this bit of snow and wind can’t freeze us to death.”
Xili patted her chest, smiled, and said,
“Even without the Sun, we can still make fire. Besides, it’s not the first ti we’ve encountered weather like this. We’re not so fragile!”
Seemingly affected by the optimism in Queen of Sintra’s words, Heluo’s lancholy mood instantly vanished.
Yes!
Without the light from the sky, there was still fire on the earth!
Heluo turned around, looking behind her.
On Heather Island, a towering burning tree connecting heaven and earth, replacing the fallen Sun, Moon, and stars, becoming a new light source, dispelling eternal night and black tides, continuously illuminating and warming the world.
——World Tree, Yggdrasil!
Heluo murmured the original na of this torch, and mories of that face branded deep in her mind surfaced.
Seven days ago, eternal night descended.
The shadow of Ragnarök gnawed at the firmant, with all life in the Nine Realms imrsed in apocalyptic fear.
Until a figure stepped into the dying World Tree, igniting the flas of Divinity, bringing new light, defending against eternal night and dark tides outside the Iron Forest, preserving the last refuge of survival for the Nine Realms.
——Son of Light Bader?
——Dead is dead.
Midgard is neither Asa nor Warner, never placing hopes of transcending dusk on such elusive things.
This is their hope!
Their light!
Heluo laughed freely, summoning a Frost Wolf War Chariot with a wave, then leaped down from the high wall, heading straight for Heather Island.
The closer you get here, the more obvious the warmth and light beco.
Yggdrasil’s remnants dig deep into the core’s prison, incinerating accumulated black tides that burn upwards, releasing a fierce roar here.
This colossal tree spanning the Nine Realms emits light and heat from its crown, each branch transforming into a swirling golden-red cluster of stars, tearing three thousand fiery gaps in the Eternal Night, allowing the Asa Divine Domain to break free from the dark sky and return to the embrace of Light;
What gushes from the cracks in the bark is not sap, but solidified radiance of Divinity, which, upon falling, lts into liquid amber, igniting the sea’s solid ice, rejuvenating Valhalla’s forests and seas;
Flas resonate with the creation song between the rings of growth, revealing bronze veins inside the dying black tree trunks of the Elf Country’s twin Holy Trees, where lting Divine Power rushes through the tree’s veins, rekindling Life;
The flock of Firebirds residing on the seventh layer of branches dive down, their tail feathers sweeping across the frozen ground of the Dwarf Country, causing the frozen soil to crack, the mountains to thaw, and reigniting the Dwarfs’ essential hearth fires for continued production and life;
anwhile, in Midgard, the burning World Tree’s trunk has collapsed into a white-hot vortex, pulling flas, light, thunderbolts, and remnants of the gods’ thrones into forging. Auroras coalesce into an erald crown at the edge of the flas, reflecting the silhouette of Great Whale bones erging from the sea in worship.
Seven days ago, when the first fla licked the ice wall at the world’s edge, creatures of the Nine Realms realized—the calamity of the God of Light’s fall was not the world’s end, for Hope’s embryo would eventually be born in the ashes of old.
“Dad, I’m back!”
As soon as the chariot stopped, Heluo jumped off swiftly, rushing into the temple beneath the World Tree, wrapped in roots and vines, like a canine that completed its walk successfully and returned ho joyfully.
However, as she stepped into the front hall, a graceful figure raised a hand to stop her.
The figure was draped in a long robe woven of silver gauze mist, its folds flowing with the sheen of lting snow water, and the hem blossod into translucent ripples upon the ground, reminiscent of a thousand moon butterflies simultaneously fluttering their wings. Her hair was a cascade spun from stardust and morning dew, with a beaded chain hanging on her forehead, made from solidified prayers, each bead sealing unburned twilight.
The blindfold, dyed in pale gold morning light, cast a soft shadow in the shape of a butterfly bone on her nose, with two crystal lilies tied at the ends, engraved with traces of Lun Runes inside, revealing fragnted rainbow light with each breath. In the hollow of her collarbone rested an eternal spiral fla, scorching a necklace inlaid with purple fluorite into fluid stars.
As she strolled through the ashes, surrounding charred particles transford into luminous dandelions in her palm. The double-layered silk wrapping her wrists flickered, revealing Edda hymns embroidered on the inner side. Whenever the temple’s bonfire leapt, those ancient words turned into silver-scaled fish, spiraling into rings of blessing at her fingertips.
This scene was like that of a Fire Saintess serving Deities at a sacrificial altar.
“The teacher is resting, please halt and do not make noise here.”
Heluo stopped her sprint reluctantly upon hearing the reminder and asked:
“When will Dad wake up?”
“I don’t know.”
The woman shook her head, her expression hidden by the silver blindfold.
Heluo, curious, waved her hands in front of the other.
“I rember you aren’t blind, so why wear this?”
Vivian, beneath the veil, subtly twitched her lips, her elegant and solemn deanor instantaneously replaced by a thick sense of resentnt.
You think I want this?
It’s all because of your dad’s command!
He said to do as the locals do, giving Nordic-style local attire, and to hide my identity, I have to cover my eyes and cannot show my true face.
Seeing the other didn’t answer, Heluo couldn’t help but ask again:
“By the way, what’s your na?”
“I have no na, only a mission, to ensure the temple’s flas do not extinguish.”
“What will happen if they extinguish?”
You’ll be killed by your dad…
Vivian secretly lanted, her resentnt growing thicker.
This resentnt wasn’t only aid at her teacher but also at her two sisters.
Seven days passed, and Morgan and Morgause haven’t co to rescue her.
The teacher who invited her to visit the North didn’t say anything, but recently, the increasingly peculiar looks cast her way seed to be brewing so unkind thoughts.
If things continue this way, she suspects she will eventually be used by her teacher to vent frustration.
First XX, then XX.
Even if she keeps her life during this period, when the Nordic Heavenly Destiny exhausts and steps into the true twilight, she feels according to her teacher’s unkind nature, she will certainly be used as a scapegoat.
Taking a huge step back, even if her teacher’s conscience awakens and doesn’t harm her, she probably won’t survive this so-called Ragnarök.
What teacher? What real sisters?
In the end, they were all fake, none dependable!
Vivian sighed while complaining inwardly.
“Heluo? You’re back?”
A deep voice ca from the main hall behind, startling Vivian out of her grumbles. She stood upright, returning to the elegant and mysterious Fire Saintess persona, opened the main door, and respectfully welcod Heluo inside.
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