Typemoon [465-466] (Patreon)

Chapter 465: Departure

"What is that?!" 

In the submarine Shadow Border, Goredolf, who hadn't even set out yet, stared at the sudden beam of light in the sky—a dazzling radiance that seemed to be launched from the far, far beyond, from the very ends of the world.

The boundless blue sky was shrouded in brilliance and storm at that moment. Within that endless tempest, it felt as if a newly born great sun had taken its place at the center of the heavens.

It was a terrifying storm that rose in less than a few seconds, without even the slightest forewarning beforehand.

Its awe-inspiring light spread across all of Scandinavia. Everywhere the eye could see was swallowed by the storm!

Countless snows and ice reversed their course, flying up from the earth into the high sky, becoming part of the storm—though they were condensed from a god's magical energy.

Even if it's a god, even if it's the last goddess of the Norse, before such majesty they are no more than this!

Within the reverse-flowing ice and snow, flames flickered.

The land of flame that descended should have brought a destiny of burning to this earth, yet at this moment it had become incomparably dim. Even its millennia-undying fire was swept up, carried with the ice and snow into the all-encompassing storm.

"Magical energy detected!"

As the ice and snow were shattered, the Shadow Border's onboard radar finally succeeded in communication and observation. Multiple channels opened simultaneously, targeting both the fire giant and the beam of light in the sky.

The fire giant remained indistinct for the time being—observing a living being is far less straightforward than observing an attack—but that falling beam of light had already had its true identity determined.

"Attack confirmed. Based on mana fluctuations, it is the Judgement fired by the Tower at the End—Rhongomyniad. Mana value—exceeds 3,000,000! In terms of power it already rivals the Lion King who appeared in the Sixth Singularity. Even the highest-grade Noble Phantasms barely reach three thousand!"

Da Vinci-chan immediately felt a splitting headache. This level of output and area was clearly far more outrageous than the Lion King's judgement!

My other self—what on earth are you doing?!

Of course Da Vinci-chan could tell who fired this judgement. It was precisely because of that that she immediately associated it with the other Da Vinci.

Is this also one of the insurance?

Is he going to shoot down even the Norse Lostbelt?!

Da Vinci-chan couldn't even be bothered to use a telescope. She left the submarine at once and stood on the deck.

A raging wind slammed into her face, tossing her hair and cutting a cold straight into her bones.

An apocalyptic vista was reflected in Da Vinci-chan's eyes—only by witnessing it with one's own eyes could that terrifying oppression be felt.

The land of Scandinavia was covered by a storm dyed in radiance.

The sky had lost its original form; only the brilliance remained eternal.

The proud giant king stood tall like a solitary warrior and roared towards the brilliance in the sky.

Mountains and rivers lay beneath his feet, and the surging magma in his hands became a resplendent star-flame sword—said to be a fusion of Surtr's flaming blade, the sun sword owned by the god Freyr, and a weapon forged by the Norse god Loki.

Its name was Lævateinn.

It is both a giant's weapon and a god's weapon—and moreover the very harbinger of ruin.

A flame-sword capable of burning the entire star to ash!

The giant's roar drowned out everything in the world, echoing ceaselessly across the Norse lands to the end of the world.

Holmes, who had practically stepped out at the same time, stood beside Da Vinci-chan, gazing solemnly into the distant sky.

Like Da Vinci-chan, Holmes naturally recognized who had fired that beam of light—the unique mana signature declared the identity of that man.

He was the Lord of the Storm, the Lord of the End—the one who had completely taken command of the Pillars of Light!

The reason the holy sword is the strongest lies in the power of the one who wields it. The same goes for the holy spear!

…

At the same time—

"Hey, hey, hey—this is absurdly strong. Are you trying to arm wrestle with the chief god?"

In an unseen corner, Caenis, who had not left the Lostbelt, curled her lip as she stared at the all-encompassing storm and the light manifested at its core.

They weren't even in the same league; even in her lifetime, she would have struggled to withstand it.

Monster.

Simply a monster.

That was Caenis's only evaluation at the moment.

"Tch, enough. The outcome of this Lostbelt is obvious. I'm heading back to the temple."

Caenis pouted. "No idea who started meddling, but the result won't change. What's your plan, foxy?"

"Hm, let me think. A world draped in silver and white—if I could develop this scenery into a resort, business would be excellent."

Koyanskaya tilted her head back with a wicked smile, looking up at the ever-falling dazzling light in the sky. The trembling in her hands and the smile on her face both betrayed her tangled feelings.

If her prediction was right, the attacker could only be him—but to strike across Lostbelts? He already has the means to do that?

And then there's what comes next. If she hadn't miscalculated—

He would also seize Surtr's flame-sword.

Just thinking about it made Koyanskaya feel it was ridiculous. This design was entirely too much!

Even she wouldn't dare imagine that!

But grumbling aside, Koyanskaya also held immense admiration for that person—after all, he had succeeded once.

"But the appearance of that giant ruined all the plans—business opportunities, all gone."

Koyanskaya sighed. "I should be withdrawing soon too. But I have to confirm Miss Ophelia's ending first."

"Hah, the easier it is to relocate, the heavier your butt gets."

Caenis shot back mercilessly. "That's exactly your style."

"Can you please not slander me!"

Koyanskaya's cheeks reddened. "My butt is not heavy at all—in fact, it's very light!"

"Light or not makes no difference. What does matter is that the queen really disappointed me."

Caenis looked at the giant standing upon the earth. "To let Surtr revive for nothing. She's just a woman who, in Proper Human History, married herself to the sea. I knew her measure long ago."

"That's where you're wrong—you have to think the other way around, Caenis."

Koyanskaya smiled slightly. "To the queen, Surtr is precisely an 'impossible' existence. Even entertaining his existence as a hypothesis is not permitted.

'Absolute faith in one's own world'—that's the limit of a Lostbelt."

At this, Koyanskaya couldn't hide her pleasure. She laughed. "That's why it gets pruned—and they don't even realize they're the ones being expelled. Just like a pitiful insect, no?"

"—"

Caenis didn't answer. Instead, she fell silent.

"That said, even if she knows about the relationship between Surtr and Sigurd, Her Majesty will still turn a blind eye, won't she?"

Koyanskaya said.

"Non-interference—letting things take their course and allowing fate to drift with the current?"

Caenis was puzzled. "Or is this the queen's compassion for the one who hides, as a fellow woman?"

"This is the responsibility borne by one who holds power too great. The queen constantly restrains her own intent. Mm—on a personal level, that's admirable—

But she seems not to realize that this way of thinking determines how Scandinavia exists. As for the consequences, that's none of my business. Do as you like—I'll grease my heels and slip away later."

"Mm-hmm, let's end the worthless chatter."

Koyanskaya blinked. "All my merchandise has been fully recovered. After I finish watching this, I'll be taking my leave from Miss Caenis as well—

Next time we meet, it'll probably be at sea. I'm looking forward to rare goods you can't find on land."

"Hah, I won't even leave you a single underling. And—don't think you'll be safe next time. Not every Lostbelt is on your side, Miss Beast of Amusement."

Caenis stared towards the end of the heavens. As they chatted, the light finally fell completely.

Under the gaze of the world, light and flame met—

There was no sound, no ripples. The beam of light that fell from the heights simply enveloped everything of the Flame Giant King, suppressing the fire surging within him.

Even if that was the flame spoken of by prophecy—Surtr's flame—named "Scathe of Branches."

It was, at once, a top-tier skill of magical energy release in the form of flames; an armor capable of resisting all changes of temperature and physical properties; and even a weapon that could spread abnormal statuses to its surroundings.

Yet within that pillar of light it was suppressed by absolute heat!

Even the flame domain that the giant king should have spread ceased to operate as the light descended!

Crack, crack.

The tough outer shell composing the giant's body—of an extremely special composition, able to absorb offensive energy and convert it into magical energy—showed cracks at that moment!

Rumble—

The earth shook, mountains collapsed, and snow and ice accumulated over thousands of years turned to torrents, surging across the endless land.

Watching all this, Alaric let out a breath of relief. As he turned his head, he seemed to notice a figure that should have disappeared. "Sigurd?"

Cre—ak.

Standing beside the unconscious Brynhildr, that stalwart male figure was indeed Sigurd, who should have died.

But his aura was distinctly different than before—it was as if the true warrior-king had returned.

"I imagine you already know, but allow me to introduce myself once more. I am a magic-sword wielder, a warrior."

Sigurd turned, facing Alaric, Fujimaru Ritsuka, and the others. "Son of Sigmund and Hjordis, a Servant manifesting in this Lostbelt under the Saber class.

True name: Sigurd. A pleasure to meet you."

Sigurd now wore a faint smile. His gentle air was a stark contrast to the brutality when Surtr had seized his body—he felt like the big brother next door.

"B-but, I remember!"

Mash swallowed. "You were already shattered when Surtr appeared—"

Even Cu Chulainn's demonic spear had pierced you through.

To this, Alaric glanced around and noticed that Cu Chulainn had, at some point, come to stand with Thrud.

"Yes. I used my Runes, with Mr. Cu Chulainn's help."

Thrud murmured. "It all happened so suddenly—the success rate should have been quite low—"

"An unnatural blank opened up during the collapse. That was the little lass's Mystic Eyes, right?"

Cu Chulainn waved a hand. "We took that chance. This girl and I used the Runes together. With our output, we can keep things going for a bit."

Though Cu Chulainn himself had been roped into helping Thrud, the overall effect wasn't bad—at least good enough to earn praise from that old hag.

"Time is short—at most a minute or two—"

Thrud stared at Sigurd. "If you're a true hero, please say something to my lady sister. That is my only wish."

If you are truly a great hero—

"Of course. And thank you again for your concern."

Empty-handed, Sigurd dropped to one knee before the fainted Brynhildr. He stretched out his hand, tracing the form of Runes in the air, reciting: "In the name of our great progenitor, the god Odin—following the guidance of the Runes—awake, my love—"

Alaric paid no heed to the love and hate between Sigurd and Brynhildr. He could tell both Sigurd and Brynhildr's Saint Graphs were about to shatter.

In at most a minute or two, both would fully return to the Throne of Heroes.

"Mash, open comms. We have to get back to the submarine."

With more pressing matters, Alaric turned to Mash. "Have Da Vinci-chan and the others contacted us?"

"N-no!"

Mash fumbled. "We haven't received a transmission from the submarine. Is it a distance issue?"

"The distance is just a bit short. We can't wait—"

Alaric glanced at the distant, dissipating pillar of light. The Flame Giant's full-body armor was shattered, yet his momentum hadn't diminished—if anything, it was still rising.

As time passed, the Flame Giant King Surtr would inevitably reclaim the power of the Age of Gods. Then he would achieve his grand undertaking of burning the world.

Besides—

If they stayed here, they would soon face Surtr's second wave of attacks.

"Can you contact Skadi?"

Alaric called to Thrud. "As your mistress, what has Skadi done about the current situation?"

"—At present, Scáthach-Skadi has dispatched the remaining Einherjar to the surviving villages to fight the attacking giants."

Thrud quickly answered. "She also gave instructions that we may come to the castle for a conference. Surtr won't make a move there for a while."

"That's perfect—"

Alaric nodded, not suspecting Skadi of trying to lure them.

With the great enemy Surtr before them, they and Skadi were natural allies.

In the end, interacting with Skadi—so long as it didn't touch on the survival of the Lostbelt—Skadi could be considered friendly to Chaldea.

Moreover—

"With a god's help, Sigurd and Brynhildr's current condition can be greatly alleviated."

Alaric glanced at the still-talking Sigurd and Brynhildr. Like Brynhildr, Skadi used the Primordial Runes, but without Brynhildr's risks.

After all, whatever else, Skadi was a god.

She and Brynhildr had a natural disparity; the power of their Runes was not even comparable.

Chapter 466: Ragnarök

"Ritsuka! How are things on your end?!"

Just as Fujimaru Ritsuka and company arrived again at Skadi's castle, the Shadow Border finally re-established communications!

"Da Vinci-chan! Over here—"

Upon receiving the call, Mash immediately reported the entire previous battle, including Alaric's Judgement shot, and then said, "Da Vinci-chan, Sir Alaric says to rendezvous at Queen Skadi's castle…"

"Got it. We're heading there together with that Valkyrie."

With no time to say more, Da Vinci-chan gave a final reminder: "We still lack lots of materials for the True Human. Are you ready? If worst comes to worst, we need Queen Skadi's support to complete the research!"

Over these past few days, Da Vinci-chan and the others had successfully tuned the Shadow Border's equipment to perfection and used existing resources to produce an embryo of the "True Human"—

The first step is the hardest; they'd taken it. The remaining path required other mystic materials to complete the balance of the True Human.

The True Human is an entity with the height of a Grand-class Spirit Origin. Its strength is not merely in being "strong," but in being "high."

Its level is lofty—capable even of bearing the power of a chief god.

This isn't something the Shadow Border's current equipment should be able to manufacture. But Da Vinci-chan had calculated that with Alaric's assistance, and even Skadi's as well, the chance of success was very high!

The transmission ended. Mash stowed her shield and looked at Fujimaru Ritsuka and Alaric. "Should we ask Queen Skadi—"

"I already know."

The queen approached from within the castle, smiling faintly. Her calm gaze swept across them. "Mm, so it seems—all of you are wounded.

Brave warriors who gambled their lives in battle—what a sight so long forgotten that I can hardly recall it.

Though, on land where the Great God's protection has grown thin, it can't be helped. Still, letting things develop to this point is also my failure."

At this, a trace of sorrow showed on Skadi's face. She sighed. "All of you of Chaldea, Heroic Spirit Sigurd, Heroic Spirit Brynhildr—your valor was splendid. My children, I will praise your gallantry.

I will let your lives continue and permit you to visit my castle—come with me."

Chaldea's fight, the Valkyries' fight, Surtr's appearance—all played out in Skadi's eyes.

Just as Koyanskaya had said, letting the situation develop was Skadi's principle—letting fate drift on the current.

But drifting as it did, it became what it is now.

As she spoke, Skadi waved her staff. The Runes she drew were of the primordial mystery—a great magic on the level of divinity.

Hum.

Not only the near-shattering Saint Graphs of Brynhildr and Sigurd—even Alaric received timely healing.

For Brynhildr, the Primordial Runes imposed tremendous strain—she even needed to burn her soul to use them. For Skadi, a goddess, it was but a small spell performed with ease.

As if she had done something trivial, Skadi turned and headed back into the castle. Alaric didn't hesitate and followed immediately.

As Fujimaru Ritsuka and the others entered the castle again, Skadi took her throne and spoke bluntly: "I've already dispatched the Einherjar. But those giants who have lost their masks will no longer heed my words—instead, they will resonate with Surtr.

The villages' barriers can probably last another half to a full day… However, I didn't expect it to be Surtr—"

Skadi's eyelids lowered. She had sensed that Ophelia seemed to be hiding something and that her Servant was unusual, but it never occurred to her it would be Surtr.

Events had already exceeded her expectations.

"Queen Skadi, I thank you for your help."

Alaric looked at Skadi. "Forgive my bluntness—before this, you did not sense Surtr's irregularities? Those flaming mountain ranges were leakage of Surtr's power, weren't they?"

"…That depends on perspective."

Skadi said softly, "The flaming mountain ranges—that is the manifestation of my own powerlessness. Even with the strength inherited from the Great God Odin, I cannot erase the Twilight from my Scandinavia."

A pained mother, a powerless god—she spoke then, for the people of Chaldea, of the past.

"In the past, three thousand years ago—the Twilight of the Gods. A war decreed by fate, the end, the twilight of the Age of Gods.

It should have been as in Proper Human History's legend—that would have been the correct beginning and the correct conclusion.

But it was warped—and it all began with Surtr's loss of control.

Surtr—the black one.

He is the hidden destructive aspect of Ymir, the progenitor giant who has even vanished from Proper Human History's myths. The one who inherited that aspect most intensely—was Surtr.

The Flame Giant King—the mightiest blade governing Muspelheim, the limited end that opens to the future, the terminal device meant to end the Norse Age of Gods.

But that creature—was not satisfied with only the Norse Age. What he desired was the true end—the termination of the star.

Fenrir, the monster originally fated to destroy the mortal coil of the Great God Odin—the Devouring Wolf, the Ice Fenrir—seems to go unrecorded by the crimson Edda and Sagas of Proper Human History. That wolf devoured half of the frozen realm Niflheim and gained bones, flesh, and a heart of ice, becoming a monster.

Though it was a mighty being that could breathe freezing mists—perhaps it was careless. After devouring the true sun, the wolf was killed by Surtr—and eaten.

Empowered, Surtr slew Loki, slew the gods, and even killed all the other giant kings—

Through the hole caused by the sun's disappearance, he linked his true body—the land of flame—to the sky, physically bringing it down, thus triggering a twilight that would engulf not only the world of the gods.

He completely destroyed the nine realms composing the Norse world and even sought to burn the planet—a fearsome, colossal incineration.

To avert this twisted end, the surviving Great God and the remaining gods resisted—but they did not win.

More precisely, they perished together. The gods were completely annihilated—the land of flame was sealed by the Great God's final Runes, suspended in the sky, becoming a false sun.

And here, only I remained as the sole god.

To conceal me from Surtr's vigilant gaze upon the gods, the Great God overlapped my existence with that of the fated woman, Scáthach. The Great God entrusted the Primordial Runes to me—to me alone."