Chapter 10: Fenrir, The Mythical Wolf God
A terrifying killing intent crashed over Sam, so potent it froze him in place. He couldn't even move a finger. Every muscle locked under the pressure. Gritting his teeth, he slowly, painfully turned his head. Behind him loomed a beast far more enormous and terrifying than the wolf-lord he had faced in the dungeon a few hours ago. Its sheer presence was a suffocating blanket of power, and it was devastatingly clear—this being was even stronger than Sam.
Then, a voice, deep and laced with ancient anger, echoed in the still air.
"Who are you? Why are you looking for me?"
As the words hung in the air, the killing intent intensified, threatening to crush Sam's very bones.
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Cold sweat dripped from Sam's brow, tracing paths through the grime on his face. The pressure was immense, but within him, a familiar darkness stirred. With a surge of defiant madness, he fought back against the weight, his fingers closing around the hilt of his sword. He drew the Sword of the Undead God, the metal singing a soft, deadly note as it cleared its scabbard. He pointed the gleaming tip directly at the colossal wolf, his eyes igniting with a sinister, crimson glow. A mad, cold smile stretched his lips.
"Are you Fenrir? The mythical god-level monster!!!"
The oppressive killing intent suddenly receded, pulling back into the beast like a tide. Fenrir revealed its true form fully. It was monstrously beautiful, its fur a tapestry of shadows, impossibly smooth and glossy. Its entire form was covered in a thick, majestic coat. Its enormous eyes, which had burned with hellish red, now softened into a deep, brilliant gold. Those golden orbs were mesmerizing, holding an ancient wisdom, yet the sharp, deadly fangs that lined its jaw promised instant annihilation. Its voice, when it came, was clearer, resonant with power.
"Yes, I am Fenrir. A spirit level mythical god."
As the name was spoken, a fractured system window materialized before Sam's eyes, its text glitching ominously.
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[System Window]
Name: Fenrir
Rank: SSS+
God Rank: Spirit Level
Level: 500
STR: 200,000
DEF: 220,000
AGI: 500,000
HP: 100,000,000
VIT: [Error]
INT: [Error]
Abilities: [Error]... Fenrir is a mythical wolf god... [Error]... Ancient times... Fenrir is the guardian of the origin... [Error]... He protects the origin world but... [Error]... [Error]... [Error]...
Fenrir was originally... [Error]...
So that's why Fenrir is way stronger than the host's key world.
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A bitter thought formed in Sam's mind.
'Damn it ! This error things again! Because of this, I can't even see the full status of this monster.'
A voice, smooth and ancient, replied directly into his consciousness.
"I'm not a monster, I am a god."
Sam's crimson eyes sharpened, his gaze piercing. He spoke aloud, his voice a low growl.
"Ugh!!! So you are a telepath freak as well . Also, you know how to read minds."
Fenrir's response was cool, slightly amused.
"What's a telepath Freak ? Anyways, my question was, why are you looking for me, mortal?"
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Sam's posture relaxed into a deceptive calm, his voice steady and cold.
"I came here for cooperating with you."
Fenrir's majestic features twisted into a scowl, its voice booming with anger.
"I am not about to negotiate with a mortal human."
At that, Sam's lips curled into a truly evil grin, a flash of white in the gloom. The air around him grew colder.
"Then I guess I have no choice but to kill you."
Fenrir stared, its golden eyes narrowing in pure, unadulterated confusion.
"What-what did you say?"
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Action erupted. Sam moved first, a blur of dark armor and lethal intent. His sword sliced through the air, aimed to cleave—but was met with an immovable object. Fenrir blocked the legendary blade with a single, mighty claw. The shock of the impact reverberated up Sam's arm. Both of them stood frozen for a moment, mutually surprised by the outcome.
"Impossible."
What?!? Where did you get that sword from?"
" How can thus be ?!? My sword says it can slice through anything. But why couldn't it cut through you? Not to mention, it couldn't even scratch you."
Fenrir leaned in, its golden eyes wide with dawning recognition and disbelief.
"Is that the Necromancer's sword? The sword of the Undead God!"
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Sam recoiled, his shock palpable.
"How do you know about Undead God?"
Fenrir observed him for a long, heavy moment before delivering its simple, devastating explanation.
"Appraisal."
Silence descended, thick and heavy. The great wolf god processed the information, its form seeming to grow even larger as the truth settled. Its voice, when it finally spoke again, was a mixture of awe and stark realization.
"W—wait, you are... The Undead God??? How can this be ?!!?!"
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