Russell had already prepared himself to permanently lose an ability—or even a part of his body.
But no sacrifice came.
Or rather, the sacrifice was only a concession, a lowered threshold for those who weren't truly qualified.
When the spiritual power entered his divine kingdom, it was like a secret lock finally finding its matching key.
The wisdom within the Fountain of Mimir erupted completely at that moment, flowing through the bridge between worlds and pouring directly into Russell's spiritual realm!
The power of Gaea.
The power of wisdom.
The prerequisites had all been met.
Russell felt a premonition deep within. Step by step, he walked out of the Fountain of Wisdom.
At that moment, a thorned vine stretched down from Yggdrasil, the World Tree, gradually wrapping around him.
The next second, Thor's vision blurred. The Kingdom of Mist was gone—
Instead, he found himself pulled into a lower dimension.
In that vast void, resembling the cosmos itself, the full image of Yggdrasil appeared before him, glowing faintly blue.
Yet it was not as colossal as legend described—not spanning and sheltering all Nine Realms.
Instead, it stood only a few dozen meters high, delicate and breathtaking, like a divine piece of art on Earth.
Thor felt a pang of frustration. It was as if the World Tree itself had chosen Russell, preparing the ceremony just for him.
Scratching his head, he muttered inwardly that the Aesir must have been raised like stepchildren… while Russell was clearly the favored son.
The branches of Yggdrasil swayed gently, as if speaking in silence.
Russell drew in a deep breath and nodded.
"It can begin."
The moment he spoke, the thorned vines began to tighten.
The law of sacrifice manifested. Russell could feel his strength fading—his godly essence draining away, leaving him mortal.
Just like when he had first crossed into this world.
His blood no longer surged with divine might. His body grew heavy, tired. His spirit dimmed, imperfect.
And yet—he could have stopped it. He could have restored himself at any time.
But doing so would end the ritual. He would lose the chance to obtain Rune Power, and the blessings of both Gaea and Mimir would vanish like mist.
Pain, long forgotten, returned with brutal clarity.
The thorns pierced his skin, silver-like blood seeping out in thick, heavy drops.
The vines coiled like chains, suspending him upside down beneath Yggdrasil.
Suddenly, a dazzling light split across the cosmos.
Thor shielded his eyes with his hand.
The world shifted in an instant.
He was no longer in the starry void—
but in an endless desert.
Beneath the withered World Tree, Russell hung upside down like a dried fish strung in a market stall.
The scorching sun seared even Thor's soul, forcing him to retreat into the shade of the great trunk. Only then did he feel some relief.
But when his eyes lifted again, he saw Russell's suffering form.
His face was withered, lips cracked, skin burned and peeling—dehydrated to the point of ruin.
Thor swallowed hard. Just looking at him, he felt his own will falter.
Time trickled on.
Day faded into night, and the blazing desert heat plummeted into bone-chilling cold.
In the blink of an eye, the world shifted from scorching heat to freezing cold.
For an ordinary low-bloodline god, such extremes would be negligible. But now—under the ritual's rules—even Thor felt the chill.
He was merely standing beneath the tree, yet the ritual reduced him to the state of a mortal.
He couldn't imagine what the man hanging before him was suffering. Perhaps Russell wasn't even as strong as a healthy human right now.
Boiling heat, bone-chilling cold.
Odin must never have endured torment this severe, Thor thought. He began to fear that this ritual might fail.
No one knew how much time had passed before the long, frigid night finally ended.
But dawn never came.
Instead, the sky was buried under black clouds, and icy rain poured down.
The cold raindrops struck Thor's skin like needles. He shivered uncontrollably and hugged his arms tight.
Then his eyes widened.
The man hanging upside down actually opened his mouth—drinking in the rain.
For a moment, Thor was stunned. Only one word surged into his mind— madness!
If it were him, he would already be numb with cold, the fire of life close to extinguishing. Yet Russell… Russell was using this storm to replenish himself.
This was beyond abnormal.
High above, in Russell's spiritual kingdom, the silver city radiated a faint white glow.
The sacred power did not oppose the ritual. Instead, it fueled the torment—shaping it, transmuting agony into strength.
This was one-way absorption.
So long as Russell endured, every shred of suffering became power, not destruction.
Now his will was being forged in fire. Only then could it finally match the weight of true rune authority.
This was what Russell truly needed.
Once, his body and mind had been tempered to the level of the All-Father, and he had broken through into a single cosmic body. But he had lingered too briefly in that realm, never touching the barrier of the multidimensional.
His rise had been too fast, forcibly devouring entire worlds to ascend. Hidden dangers remained.
But now, this ritual would mend the flaw.
Time flowed.
After the icy rain came the scorching sun. Cold and heat alternated, each extreme hammering his spirit anew.
The first day.
The second day.
And so it continued—eight days and eight nights.
Beneath the World Tree, Thor's eyes were bloodshot as he stared at the man whose chest still faintly rose and fell.
Too powerful.
Thor could barely endure simply standing here, in the tree's shadow. The only thing keeping him from fleeing was pride.
On the ninth night, when Thor expected the cold to return—something changed.
The blood-drinking thorns ignited, flames spreading along their lengths and searing through Russell's wounds. Fire surged into his body, coursing like molten magma through his veins—burning flesh, scouring bone.
Pain.
An agony beyond anything before.
Russell groaned, his dried body spasming, sweat pouring down like rain.
Thor shuddered, scalp prickling.
The previous torments hadn't wrung a single reaction from Russell. Yet now—now he screamed. The pain must be unimaginable.
Even Thor felt phantom agony in his own flesh just watching.
Time itself seemed to slow, every second stretched to an eternity.
Russell's mind blurred, unable to think. Only a single thought remained—
Do not yield.
No matter what.
After an unknown span, the night began to fade.
Thor sensed it first—an astonishing power awakening within Russell.
Dawn was coming.
At that moment, all timelines shuddered. Every World Tree across existence fully manifested. The Fountains of Wisdom in all realms boiled and evaporated.
And in their depths, blue energy like stardust flowed—
Rune Power.
It had appeared!
But then—an accident struck.
The World Tree trembled violently, its shadow spreading madly across every lower dimension.
Until finally, they overlapped—fusing into a single ultimate realm.
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