Chapter 6

Muspelheim is the primordial realm of fire, also known as the Land of Flames. It is filled entirely with heat and fire, and it was through its interaction with the Realm of Ice that the first giant came into being. Eighty percent of the hills here are volcanoes, and ninety-six percent of those volcanoes are active. As a result, aside from the ruling fire giants and a few heavily armored insects living at the mountain bases, there is almost no life here.

Which means there is virtually no danger.

The problem lies in the fact that crafting this wand requires lava. Extracting lava—and then forging it into the wand—is extremely difficult.

Most importantly, I am almost dying from the heat.

The air warped under the intense temperature as Lan and I hovered between two volcanoes, molten lava surging beneath us in blazing currents. Sweat streamed down my face drop by drop. My cheeks were so hot they could probably roast a duck, yet I forced myself to stay patient and finish repairing the wand, setting the diamond into place. Having relied on professional jewel setters for years, my own craftsmanship had deteriorated to kindergarten level. Without help, there was no way I could handle the inlay work myself.

“Now we need lava…” I muttered, gripping the loosened head of the wand. “How are we supposed to get it out?”

“Wait a moment.”

Lan descended slightly, spread his hands, and gently lifted them upward. The lava below—raging like a wild beast—suddenly became as obedient as clear water, flowing upward against gravity. It rose all the way to him and began circling around his body.

I stared at him in astonishment.

Ever since we arrived, something had felt strange to me. Although Lan was a grand archmage and should possess considerable mastery over all elemental magic, every divine race is born with an innate elemental affinity that determines its natural talent.

The more proficient a mage is with a particular element, the more resistant they are to attacks of that same element. In other words, a fire mage is more heat-resistant, while a water mage is more resistant to cold. Yet mages can normally use elements only to attack or restrain others—they cannot manipulate elements as freely as if performing magic tricks.

Rumor had it that Lan’s greatest specialty was earth magic. Long ago, I had seen newspaper reports describing his astonishing feats of manipulating flying sand and shifting stones with effortless precision. Yet ever since I had come to know him, the magic he used most often seemed to be fire.

Moreover, ever since we arrived in Muspelheim, Lan had not shed a single drop of sweat. He showed no sign of discomfort at all; on the contrary, he seemed to be in an unusually good mood. Most astonishing of all, the lava appeared almost capable of understanding him, automatically stretching into thin streams and slowly welding itself into the wand.

After all the lava had fused into place, I wiped the sweat from my face and couldn’t help saying, “Lan, you’re really incredible.”

“Really? In what way?” Lan suddenly looked up, the fiery glow reflecting in his pale golden hair.

Perhaps it was only my imagination, but he seemed… different from before.

“I’ve never seen any archmage control primordial elements like this. Your fire magic is so refined… it’s as if you’ve become one with the flames themselves.”

“Is that so? But that’s not a good thing.” Lan bit his lower lip as his face slowly moved closer to mine, then released it. At the same moment, the lava hovering above his palm burst apart with a bang, melting into even fiercer flames. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Fire kills people.”

As he spoke, molten lava fell directly into his palm. Yet he showed no reaction at all, tossing it casually from one hand to the other as if he were playing with water before flinging it away.

“Your hand—” I cried out, grabbing his wrist to inspect it closely. “How can you be so careless?”

“It’s nothing.” Suddenly, he tightened his grip around my wrist and pulled me closer. “Ina, are you worried about me?”

His palm burned with intense heat, so hot that I gasped.

“You… what’s wrong with you?”

“Answer me. Are you worried about me?”

“Lan, are you feeling unwell? Why are you—”

“Answer me!” he raised his voice. The temperature of his hand grew hotter and hotter, and the violet-blue flames in his eyes seemed ready to erupt.

Startled, I nodded repeatedly. “Yes! Of course I’m worried about you.”

“Really?” He released me and sat suspended in midair, tilting his head as he gave me a wicked yet extraordinarily beautiful smile. “I don’t believe you.” Flames ignited in both of his palms as he spoke.

Was this person really Lan? I couldn’t help wondering whether someone else had taken over his body.

“Whatever. Let’s go.” Lan shrugged indifferently, taking out The Nine Realms Grimoire of the Fire God and opening it. “Where should we go next? Oh, right—Asgard.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” I rushed forward and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. “Lan, wake up! Are you still yourself?”

“Of course I’m not Lan. Actually, my name is…” He smiled faintly and leaned closer to me. “Let’s go kill Odin.”

“How can I make you return to normal? Lan! Lan!”

I shook him harder, hoping to snap him back to his senses. Instead, his eyes widened as he looked at me with an innocence almost childlike. Then, without warning, he bit down on my lips.

My cry of shock vanished into his kiss. One hand held the magic book, nearly engulfed in flames, while the other wrapped around my waist and pulled me tightly against him—his strength far beyond that of an ordinary god.

“Mmph.” Suddenly he released me, covering the corner of his mouth, now bleeding slightly. He shook his head, tapped a page of the book, grabbed my hand, and began chanting a spell.

In the blink of an eye, the temperature dropped sharply. Snow and ice stretched endlessly around us, and the sweat on my face froze almost instantly.

We were standing on a frozen plain.

“I… I’m sorry,” Lan said immediately.

“Don’t come any closer.” I raised both hands defensively and stepped back.

My mind was in complete chaos. I had never imagined my first kiss would disappear like this.

Lan wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and walked toward me. “Ina, I… I have to explain. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Don’t come closer!”

---

2

Lan stopped at once, remaining where he stood.

“Whenever I go to Muspelheim, my temperament becomes strange and irritable, and I lose control. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, but this time was more serious. What just happened… I’m truly sorry.”

I calmed down a little. “Why… does that happen?”

“It’s been like this since I was born.”

I fell silent for a moment. I had never been close to boys before. Growing up, I had always believed boys were gentle and accommodating toward girls—so what I felt just now wasn’t anger, but fear.

For the first time, I realized that boys could be… dangerous.

And yet, if he had always remained as gentle as usual, perhaps… perhaps I wouldn’t have disliked his kiss.

I quickly shook my head, forcing the strange thought away.

“Are there other places where you change like this?”

“None.”

“In that case, don’t worry about it too much.” I rubbed my arms, hugging myself. It was unbearably cold.

This was the world of the primordial ice element—Niflheim, also known as the Kingdom of Ice—located at the northernmost end of Ginnungagap. There was no sunlight here, only dense fog and extreme cold. At this moment, the fog hung in the air like suspended droplets of oil, pushed endlessly by freezing winds and spreading in every direction. The already endless white ice field now resembled a vast labyrinth.

If I was correct, we had come here to find the venomous dragon Nidhogg. One of the three roots of the World Tree lay here, and since the beginning of the ages, Nidhogg had gnawed at its roots. After the world was reborn, it was captured by Hel, the ruler of Helheim, and kept as her pet. Helheim stood to the west of this frozen wasteland. It was said that among the Nine Worlds, some of the souls of the dead would travel to Valhalla in Asgard, while the rest came here.

As I tried to recall Helheim’s exact location, I glanced around casually. The fog thinned slightly. Lan and I stood atop a small ice mound, and everywhere around us—on the ground and suspended in midair—countless transparent souls stood densely packed.

“Don’t move,” Lan said, scanning the surroundings. “The spirits here aren’t as powerful as those in Valhalla. If you stay still, they can’t see you.”

“Then what should we do now—”

Before I could finish, a small crack suddenly split open beneath our feet. I gasped silently, losing my balance completely. Lan rushed forward to steady me, but he nearly slipped as well.

In that instant, every spirit turned toward us simultaneously, motionless.

Time itself seemed to freeze.

A second later, hundreds—no, thousands—of translucent souls surged toward us.

A red magic circle flashed beneath our feet, and a semicircular wall of flame rose around us, forming a protective barrier. The spirits slammed into the fiery wall, melting and evaporating instantly—only to reform again nearby.

Perhaps because opposing elements weakened the spell, the magic Lan reinforced was no longer as strong as before. The flames looked as though bucket after bucket of icy water had been poured over them, growing weaker by the second.

“This isn’t good. We’ll have to leave quickly and come back after we think of another plan,” Lan said as he opened the magic book.

At that moment, the ice mound beneath us, which had only been cracked, suddenly split apart.

Without warning, I fell.

Strangely, instead of plunging into an icy river beneath the ice, it felt as though I were falling into a frigid abyss exhaling cold mist.

Below my feet, something enormous, soft, and black swayed slowly from side to side.

Before I could understand what it was, Lan had already summoned a sphere of flame and hurled it downward. At the same time, he wrapped an arm around my waist, lifted me, and burst out of the magic circle, shooting rapidly toward the sky.

A world-shaking roar erupted.

As the ice plains grew farther and smaller beneath us, thousands of translucent white spirits surged upward in pursuit. From the place that had just split open, a massive dragon’s head burst forth—the black object we had seen earlier was actually its tongue.

Freezing air and snowflakes spun rapidly in Lan’s palm. A long ice arrow condensed above his hand. He hurled it instantly, striking Nidhogg’s body—but to the dragon, it was no more than a snowball.

This venom-breathing Nidhogg had somehow become a dormant ice dragon under Hel’s control.

“Damn it.” Lan pushed me aside and cast a protective spell around me. “Wait here.”

In the blink of an eye, he dove downward.

The spirits, as if trained by a military force, followed him in a massive swarm.

Less than a minute later, Lan flew back up, holding the magic book. He grabbed my hand and recited a spell.

Blinding light surrounded us, and I instinctively shut my eyes.

When I opened them again, we were already high above a forest.

“All right, here.” He tossed a palm-sized, ice-blue scale into my hands. “Finish what you need to do first. Then we’ll fetch the spring water, and everything will be complete.”

I held the scale, still radiating cold mist, and blinked. “You already got it?”

“Mm.”

“Oh.” I sighed softly. “Being with you is really no fun.”

Even facing one of the fiercest monsters in the Nine Worlds, he could obtain what he wanted so easily and effortlessly. Nothing dangerous ever seemed to happen.

“The places we visited before were naturally boring,” he said, pointing toward distant mountains beyond the forest. Between two enormous peaks stood a vast castle. “But this place isn’t boring.”

“This is the world of the giants.”

My heart began to pound.

Although many years had passed, giants had once been enemies of the gods. This should be exciting…

Then Lan added calmly:

“Jotunheim—my homeland.”

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3

I was now completely certain that this whirlwind “journey” of ours was not going to be exciting at all.

However, Jotunheim was exceptionally beautiful—and extraordinarily strange. The main city itself was a snow-white marble castle as tall as a mountain, built against the slopes and surrounded by towering peaks and dense forests. Two enormous Roman columns supported the city gates. Vast woods and vegetation stretched beyond the walls, making the region rich in timber and cotton. Farther to the east lay an iron forest, which marked the road leading to Midgard.

Outside the castle stood the largest fountain in all the Nine Worlds. The water it sprayed rose to nearly one-third the height of the castle itself. Standing close to it felt almost like being caught in the rain.

As I walked, I kept thinking about what Lan had said earlier—that he was a giant.

According to legend, the giants of ancient times were truly gigantic, usually standing 1.3 to 1.5 times taller than the gods. Modern giants were no longer as astonishingly large as their ancestors, but they were still at least a head taller than ordinary gods. Lan was indeed tall; holding a long conversation with him would probably leave my neck sore. Still, he was only slightly taller than Frey—so how could he be considered a giant?

Besides, giants, whether male or female, tended to look rather rugged. The men had especially thick arms, powerful muscles, and tremendous strength. The women were notably well-built, with pronounced chests and hips—but not in the seductive way of the Aesir women. When looking at a giantess, I often felt, “It’s just there—you can’t not notice it.”

I glanced at Lan again. His pale golden hair, almost silver in hue, his refined and handsome face, and his tall, slender figure that never felt exaggerated… none of it resembled a giant at all.

Then I suddenly remembered the woman who had slapped him on Eden Street. Could it be that, in that respect… Lan was very much like one?

The thought instantly struck me as indecent. I shook my head hard, only for Lan to notice. He turned back and looked at me.

“Thinking of something amusing?”

“I… was wondering whether Lan is really a giant.”

“My father isn’t. He’s a Vanir god who married into Jotunheim.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Married into here?”

“Yes. My mother was the commander of Jotunheim’s knight order. She was very beautiful, but too strong-willed, so no one dared pursue her. Until she met my father. Perhaps it’s true what they say—the men of the Vanir are gentle and more willing to yield to women. During the final war between giants and gods more than two hundred years ago, my father fell in love with my mother at first sight. After that, he left Vanaheim and moved here.”

Lan smiled gently. Golden sunlight fell upon his hair, the flowing light making it shine brilliantly—even brighter than Shia’s waves. I stared absentmindedly for a long while before suddenly realizing something.

Two major events had taken place during that famous battle over two hundred years ago: the awakening of Baldur, the God of Light; and Njord, leader of the Vanir tribe and god of the sea, stepping down to marry the giant commander of the knights.

After a long pause, I finally managed to say, “You’re Njord’s son?”

“Yes.”

“Then… you and Frey are half-brothers? Same father, different mothers?”

“Yes.”

At last, I understood why Frey treated him so well, why he was allowed to live in Hœnir’s palace, and why he could hold such a grand birthday celebration there—this guy was basically a prince.

“But why didn’t your father pass the throne to Frey, and instead give it to Baldur?”

“Because Baldur is the God of Light, the son of Odin and Frigg. Only he possesses the power to stand against his twin brother of darkness. Still, compared to Xiu’en, he’s not enough.”

“Xiu’en really isn’t a chief god? How can he be so powerful?” It truly was strange. The dark god Höðr had already awakened, yet Xiu’en ruled as emperor of the Aesir tribe.

“No. He’s already over two hundred years old—he’ll be in the grave in a few more years. If he were going to awaken, he would have done so long ago. I’ve never fought him directly, but it’s said he doesn’t possess exceptional combat ability. What sets him apart is his extraordinary military talent and strategic genius.”

“Then if Xiu’en dies someday, who will inherit the throne?”

“Most likely Höðr. Xiu’en has no children.”

“Someone over two hundred years old without a single child?”

“None. He has countless women, but no children—and no queen either.”

“No way. At that age he still has many women?”

“Don’t you know? The older men get, the more they like young, beautiful girls—girls like you.” Lan turned to look at me, suddenly lifting a strand of my hair. “Your hair is very long. Did someone ask you to keep it that way?”

“I’ve just never had the time to take care of it, so it grew this long. I was actually thinking about cutting it.” I realized my voice sounded stiff.

“No, don’t cut it. It’s beautiful like this.” Lan’s gaze softened further, and an unconscious smile appeared at the corner of his lips. “Yina, do you know… the girl I always imagined in my dreams since childhood was someone just like you.”

Perhaps it was only my imagination, but for a moment, my heart seemed to stop beating.

I lowered my head and said softly, “Let’s go fetch the spring water first.”