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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Light Slash and the Dwarves' Arrival
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Kankun took a deep breath and gripped her sword again.
Standing beside her, Loki's eyes sparkled with interest.
'Oh ho, her stance is solid.'
She gritted her teeth.
She recalled.
Her target of revenge.
Kudan Ragnar.
'Why… betray us…!'
The man who had always treated her like his own daughter had killed her father, raided the village… and tried to drag her away….
She wanted to know the reason.
At that moment, something writhed in her chest.
As a strange energy spread through her entire body, her eyes lost focus and grew clouded.
Her sword began to emit a faint glow and heat up.
-Swinging it.
She raised her sword high toward the sky.
-She just needed to shout [Light Slash].
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Light Slash (Lv. 1)
Golden energy erupts, slashing forward with explosive force. Pierces obstacles.
"Light-."
The sword glowed even brighter as a golden radiance burst forth.
"-Slash."
The surrounding air seemed to contract for a moment, then the golden energy expanded and detonated.
The unwavering sword trajectory etched into the empty air, explosively shoving the surrounding atmosphere aside.
The slash flying from the sword tip tore through the earth and charged ahead.
It pulverized the trees in its path.
A momentary stutter in momentum.
But Kankun instinctively sensed it.
'It's breaking through!'
The slash cleanly pierced the trees, scarring the rock behind before vanishing.
Kankun's eyes gradually regained their normal hue.
And she froze.
It wasn't as powerful as the slash Loki had unleashed earlier, but it still demonstrated considerable might!
Kankun's face brightened, and she bounced around excitedly, whipping her head around like a thrilled child.
"Did you see that!? I did the slash…!"
At that moment, she felt her head spin.
As she staggered, Loki grabbed her by the scruff of the neck.
"Ugh…."
Kankun clutched her mouth, and Loki nodded in satisfaction.
"The item's performance is reliable. But looks like you can't handle the recoil yet?"
"My head's dizzy."
"Your body's too weak for it. Level up- er, train harder."
Kankun nodded at Loki's words. But with a puzzled look, she gazed up at him.
"What's wrong?"
"Th-this sword… are you giving it to me?"
From their first meeting until now, Loki showed no sign of reclaiming the sword. If anything, he seemed to be keeping his distance from it.
"No, I'm lending it to you."
Lending. Nothing more, nothing less.
⚙ ITEM TRAIT ⚙ Burtgang (Heimdall's Sword) vs. Loki: +Damage & Critical Hit Chance User: Greatly Amplifies All Abilities
'Rejection.'
That was the reason Loki wasn't taking back the sword.
Was it because of that?
Loki felt a strong aversion to Burtgang.
'The game being based on Norse mythology is part of it, too.'
In Norse myth, Loki and the light god Heimdall kill each other.
Because of that worldbuilding, in this gamified reality, the repulsion came naturally.
Loki shoved Burtgang away like a vampire repelled by garlic.
"Um… Lord Loki."
At that moment, Loki turned.
Shaman, the Nod Tribe priest, approached from the forest and bowed his head.
"A guest has arrived."
A guest? Had another tribe come to attack?
As Loki eyed Shaman quizzically, the priest continued with a troubled expression.
"Dwarves."
"...?"
"A group of dwarves… at the temple."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Reran, leader of the dwarves, swallowed dryly as he surveyed his surroundings.
He couldn't tear his gaze from the temple architecture where he stood.
A towering ceiling. Yet no pillars where they should support it.
This was a structure designed via intricate mathematical precision.
The building itself bore ornate patterns and decorations evoking splendor and grandeur.
'Incredible architectural mastery!'
Design accounting for exact angles, ratios, and weight distribution.
Reran shifted from the ceiling to the figure on the throne before him.
A jet-black helm.
Horns spiraling like a mountain goat's skull.
Jet-black plate armor, shoulders draped in a dark brown beast-pelt cloak.
To Nod folk, a demon—the Constellation of Sin.
He gazed down upon him.
'This one's the castle lord? But first…'
Dwarf Reran sweated coldly, glancing aside.
Undead clad in armor and helms.
Examining their gear sent shivers through him.
'The undead's equipment—what metal!? Unseen alloys! And flawlessly forged weapons!'
A born smith, Reran represented dwarven excellence.
New metals and alien tech in architecture—he was hooked.
"Name."
Reran looked up at Loki.
"I asked your name."
Reran swallowed and spoke.
"Re-Reran. Son of Auson, Reran."
For proud dwarves, kneeling, bowing, honorifics—rare indeed.
No honorifics save for chieftain or kin, yet before this one, they flowed unbidden.
"What brings you here?"
Reran fell silent at Loki's question.
He recalled recent events.
Pure chance.
The dwarves fled southlands' slave hunts northward to barren frozen wastes.
Nod raiders dwelled here, fewer than south, rarely nation-hunted.
Frozen lands brimmed with ore, dwarven paradise.
Passing the forest, hammer strikes echoed.
Crude clamor drew eyes to a village erecting crude buildings.
'Tch, laughable craft.'
Crude to the core.
Materials, techniques—laughable next to dwarven or southern craft.
'Shatter like twigs to monsters.'
Sneering, Reran meant to pass the humans by.
But astonishment struck.
The temple.
Loki's Valhalla Palace.
Unknown rock and metal formed a palace radiating majesty—not Nod hype.
Its grandeur pulled their feet inside.
Thus entered, met Shaman, audience granted.
"O great lord of this magnificent temple!"
Recalling, Reran spoke with trembling lips.
Pride-shattering for dwarves, honor-tarnishing if spread.
Yet he begged, pride cast aside.
It was…
"I wish to learn the techniques that built this palace—and how to source those materials!"
Learning from non-dwarves.
"Good."
Reran gaped up at Loki.
"I permit it."
So readily!
New architecture! Exotic stone, metal!
Old Reran would scoff.
No race rivaled dwarven craft.
But now?
Mysterious wonders before him.
Such tech rare—no, impossible elsewhere!
Master it, eternal dwarf legend!
As Reran rejoiced…
"But I want payment."
Dwarves froze.
"Wh-what…"
Loki leaned in, peering at Reran.
"Labor."
"..."
"I'll teach crafting the palace's stone and metal."
Loki tapped the throne arm.
"In exchange, work for us."
Valhalla housed dungeon stone fabs and metal forges.
Could build near-equals.
But Loki loathed manual toil.
High-freedom Ragnarok.
Players grind mats, craft, build.
'…Grinding's hell.'
Developer Loki skipped it.
Dwarves offered automation—he'd not refuse.
"Be-become slaves?"
"Workers, not slaves."
"..."
"Homes provided. Warm shelter, food, water, protection. Make our needs."
Reran needed no thought.
Escape slave hunts. Safe tribal home.
This "demon" offered both—plus tech!
"…Of course! We shall! No—let us!"
He bowed, pleading.
"But share not this tech."
"Naturally! Humans, elves, others couldn't grasp such greatness!"
"..."
Game-system tech, inimitable.
"Weapons too."
Nods abound here.
Arm them for self-defense.
Reran thrilled.
New-metal arms?!
Dwarf artisan fire ignited.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Time flew after dwarves settled.
Buildings sprouted before Valhalla Palace.
The palace sheltered raid-fleeing Nods, swelling ranks.
Population boomed: more hands, more structures.
Dense woods vanished; city Valhalla rose.
Ritual-bound Nods met Shaman inevitably, beholding Valhalla.
Safe havens seduced.
Meeting Constellation of Sin bred fear-awe.
Their constellation stirred—fitting.
Shaman's devotion fanned flames.
Myth-to-superstition made real, faith rekindled.
Nods flocked; city thrived, tribal markets bloomed.
Thus prospering Valhalla grew…
"…Incredible! These bastards aiming for a nation?"
"Y-yes, brother. Kudan's demon-landing spot…! How's empty woods a boomtown in six months…!"
…Strangers arrived.
Two enigmas.
Gaunt 30s handsome man, hulking guard at flank.
Kudan's rebel allies reached Valhalla Palace.
"Now, shall we find Kudan's girl, Kankun?"