Drawing a Wolf, Drawing a Snake, and Burning a Tree!

Amid the flames, the young man smiled, his emerald eyes shining like stars.

And so, in the blink of an eye, Skuld spent over three years searching the human world.

As the years passed, the goddess only grew weaker and weaker.

After all, she had been away from the spring of Urd and the roots of Yggdrasil for too long, and having neglected her duties, she suffered the backlash of the World Tree.

Skuld knew she should go back, but she was unwilling to give up.

She persisted for another year.

And during that year, a major event occurred.

Brynhildr (Brunhild), the leader of the Valkyries, had angered the god king Odin and was severely punished.

Stripped of her divinity, she was about to be cast into an eternal slumber.

Originally, rhis matter should have had nothing to do with Skuld, but after four years of her wandering the human world as the Norn of the Future, news of her activities had spread throughout Asgard.

Thus, Brynhildr sought her out.

While the other gods dared not defy authority of the king of the gods, Brynhildr could only turn to this unique Norn and entrust her with what she carried in her arms.

It was a baby she had picked up from somewhere.

The reason she picked up the child was simple.

"Because this child... looks really cute..."

Skuld initially wanted no part in this, but when she saw the baby in Brynhildr's arms and her eyes met the infant's calm, blinking gaze, she saw the same clear emerald eyes she had seen in the threads of fate...

And so, to Brynhildr's surprise and delight, Skuld took the child.

She immediately brushed aside her dark hair, revealing her hollow eye, and peered into his future.

And, when the myriad, ever-shifting possibilities of his future unfolded before her eyes,

Skuld was finally convinced... she had truly found him!

Moreover, when Skuld looked up, she instantly realized that because of her contact with the child, Brynhildr's fate had also changed.

The once-predetermined destiny was now shrouded in a hazy veil.

"This child seems to like you very much," Brynhildr said softly, unaware of the significance, her voice gentle as she spoke to Skuld.

Skuld, hearing her words, followed her gaze and looked down, noticing the baby in her arms staring at her, without blinking.

For he had sensed the familiar scent of fate on her.

And Skuld's next words only confirmed his suspicions.

"Because... this is not the first time he has been watched over by fate."

Skuld spoke these words and, under Brynhildr's slightly reluctant gaze, carried the child away.

Not long after Skuld left, a golden-haired Valkyrie wearing a feathered helmet and clad in battle armor rode down from the heavens on a white horse.

She landed beside Brynhildr and looked at her with a sorrowful expression, saying, "Sister Brynhildr, it is time for you to leave..."

Brynhildr withdrew her gaze and looked at her beautiful yet sorrowful sister beside her.

She reached out and gently patted her head.

Then, together, they departed.

Before leaving, as if sensing Brynhildr's lingering reluctance, the golden-haired Valkyrie glanced from afar in the direction where Skuld had gone.

However, what Brynhildr did not expect was that Skuld, after taking the baby away, did not bring him to Asgard to raise.

Instead, guided by the future she had seen, she took the child...um Promise—to Svartalfheim, the realm of the dwarves beneath Midgard.

In Norse mythology, dwarves are master craftsmen, possessing all kinds of mysterious powers and profound knowledge.

They have forged many treasures.

Many of the divine weapons wielded by the Norse gods were crafted by them.

Among these was Thor's mighty hammer, Mjölnir!

Skuld, carrying the infant in her arms, spent over half a month traveling until she arrived outside a cave belonging to a dwarf named Mime.

She knocked on the door and met the dwarf.

"Lady Goddess?!"

Seeing the beautiful and mysterious goddess in a black gown standing before him, the short-statured Mime was momentarily stunned before becoming flustered and unsure of what to do.

"I have heard that you have taken in the child of Sigurd, son of the great hero Sigmund, descendant of King Volsung."

The Norn of the Future, who had already glimpsed what was to come, spoke calmly.

Without waiting for Mime to recover and respond, Skuld handed the baby in her arms to him and, after a brief silence, told the first lie of her life.

"And he... is Sigurd's younger brother."

(Now Sigurd is Siegfried for those who don't know..)

...

In the blink of an eye, ten years passed.

In Svartalfheim, the realm of the dwarves on the World Tree, Yggdrasil.

Inside the cave of the dwarf Mime.

Early in the morning, just after dawn.

"Nor, it's time to get up!"

Without giving the boy still nestled in his blankets a chance refuse, Sigurd, who was two or three years older than him, pulled off the covers and dragged the reluctant boy out of the cave.

Together, they stepped into the morning breeze and sunlight to begin their daily training.

Outside the cave, Sigurd swung the wooden sword in his hand.

Though he was only twelve or thirteen years old at this time, his eyes already shone with the spirit of a hero.

Meanwhile, the boy lazily sat under a large tree nearby, watching Sigurd's routine practice with a bored expression on his face.

The boy's current name was Signor, Sigurd's "younger brother."

Of course, his real name was Promise!

Yes, he was Promise.

Wel..the whole situation wasn't particularly complicated, though Promise himself had been quite confused at first.

Using a Servant Class Card to manifest as a Servant, Promise had arrived in the Age of Norse Gods, only to find himself transformed into a baby again, as if he had drunk a potion of youth.

And by some mysterious powers..he had been abandoned in a forest.

The completely similar situation..

Well..before Promise, who was confused and stunned at first, could fully process what was happening, he instinctively looked up and saw a wild beast drooling as it stared at him.

At that moment, Promise felt a giant "DANGER" sign flashing above his head.

Just as he began to wonder in his heart if he would die here and whether Merry would laugh herself to death when he returned like this, the next second, he saw the beast pierced by a spear.

Then, Brynhildr, the leader of the Valkyries in Norse mythology and one of the most classic yanderes in the Type-Moon universe, picked him up.

Later, he learned that she had been stripped of her divinity and was about to fall into a deep slumber.

Because of this, Brynhildr entrusted him to the Norn of the Future.

And that Norn, carrying him as a baby, brought him to become Sigurd's nominal younger brother...

"I should have known it would be you," Promise often thought with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"No wonder you got along so well with Athena the first time you met... Now that I think about it, it makes sense. You and Athena are both creators of Heroic Spirits, after all!"

Who is Promise referring to here?

Of course, it's the King of Asgard, the All Father, the one he briefly encountered during the Singularity in Fuyuki City—Odin!

In fact, according to mythological records, the king of Gods, Odin, like Athena, is a shaper of heroes.

However, the only difference between him and the Goddess of Wisdom Athena was that, Athena molds heroes because she enjoys the moment when they shine brightly and gloriously,

While Odin shapes heroes for a much more straightforward reason: to gather the souls of heroes in Valhalla, building an army to fight against the final cataclysm—Ragnarok.

Sigurd's father, the great hero Sigmund of Norse mythology, is one such example.

When Sigmund was still a young child, Odin disguised himself as a ragged, one-eyed man with a wide-brimmed hat.

In front of Sigmund, he thrust the holy sword into a tree and declared that only a truly powerful hero could pull it out before leaving.

Does this story sound a bit familiar?

That's because the holy sword Gram is the prototype of King Arthur's sword in the stone.

Later, Sigmund pulled out the sword and indeed became one of the greatest heroes of his time.

However, he ultimately fell to Odin's spear, Gungnir, when the god-king disguised himself as Sigmund's enemy.

Even the holy sword was shattered by Gungnir in the process.

In fact, Brynhildr's defiance of Odin also stemmed from this event.

Brynhildr admired Sigmund's bravery and became his Valkyrie, bringing him victory after victory.

But in that crucial battle, Odin ordered Brynhildr to ensure Sigmund's defeat.

Brynhildr was obviously unwilling because she felt that Sigmund deserved the victory, so she granted him triumph anyway, which forced Odin to personally go out and defeat Sigmund himself.

Odin has always been shaping heroes in Midgard, only to grant them death in the end, thus preserving their strongest moments to join the ranks of Valhalla.

This is his way of preparing for the inevitable arrival of Ragnarok.

Now, ten years have passed.

Even though Promise was a bit confused at the beginning, with his "wisdom," he has long since figured out the situation.

His current state is undoubtedly Odin's doing.

Even being saved and picked up by Brynhildr, and now becoming Sigurd's younger brother, was likely all part of the script Odin had prepared for him a long time ago.

Because Odin had come in contact Promise before, even if it was in the past, but, like Athena, he possesses eyes that see all and represent absolute wisdom.

Thus, Odin would naturally remember the patterns by which Promise rewrites fate.

That is, only those recorded in his little black book.

"I have to say, you schemers... your hearts are all so dirty!"

Thinking about this, Promise couldn't help but mutter these words as he looked at Sigurd, who had lived with him and treated him like a true brother for the past ten years, all because of a single sentence from the Norn of the Future.

After all, it's been a while ten years...

Even a stone would have warmed up by now.

Not to mention someone like Promise, who is inherently pure in this regard—repaying kindness and avenging wrongs.

So even though he knows this is Odin's script, can Promise really stand by and watch the tragic drama between Sigurd and Brynhildr unfold?

Thus, Promise could only sigh and look up at the sky.

"Huh? Nor, what are you talking about?" Sigurd, drenched in sweat, walked over and asked the lazy Promise sitting under the tree in confusion.

"...Nothing. I just think these relationships are really messy."

Even though he's been tricked, technically, Promise was indeed picked up and raised by Brynhildr.

There's also one interesting fact..um that Brynhildr is Odin's daughter.

At the same time, Sigurd's grandfather is also a descendant of God-king Odin.

In other words, Sigurd's bloodline carries the essence of the King of the Gods, Odin...

So, Brunhild and Siegfried...oh well..we can only say..

"This is truly the Age of Gods for you!"

When you think about it, this is the Age of Gods, so everything seems to make sense.

On the contrary, for Promise, who is still thinking about bloodlines, morals and ethics, he might actually be the real "outsider" in this era.

The young Sigurd looked curiously at his nominal younger brother, who was standing there in silence.

To be honest, he didn't know what Promise was thinking, but Sigurd didn't particularly care.

After all, he had always felt that his younger brother was a bit mysterious.

"Come on, Nor!"

With that, Sigurd tossed a wooden sword to Promise, his expression eager as he said, "Let's spar! Today, I will definitely beat you!"

Hearing this, Promise glanced at the wooden sword in front of him and couldn't help but roll his eyes at Sigurd blankly as he said. "Why do we even need to fight? If you were one or two years older, the wind from your sword swing alone would have been enough to blow me away."

As he spoke these words, Promise's expression visibly darkened.

This was already the third time he had performed Heroic Spirit simulation, and this time he had even been tricked by Odin, growing up from infancy to now. Yet, his physical strength still hadn't improved.

In short, in the age of gods, in this era where magical energy is off the charts, if it weren't for the protection granted by the Servant Class Card, even breathing would be akin to suicide for Promise.

Thus, even in the Age of Norse Gods, he was still as fragile as a leaf in the wind.

But despite his words, Promise stood up from under the morning shade of the tree, picked up the wooden sword from the ground, and looked at the eager Sigurd with a faint smile on his face.

If you're going to fight, do it early, because in a couple of years, I really won't stand a chance~~

Thinking of this, Promise gripped the sword and walked toward Sigurd.

Although his body hadn't been strengthened, he had at least been taught by the centaur sage Chiron and had learned a bit of everything from the many Greek heroes.

So, when it came to technique, Promise was at the top of his game.

If he couldn't even beat a young, not-yet-fully-grown demigod hero, even his usually god tempered, and patient Teacher Chiron, would probably not be able to help but run over and lecture Promise.

After a while, he was able to disarm Sigurd, sending his wooden sword flying.

He pointed his sword at Sigurd's throat.

Looking at Sigurd, who, due to his age, wore the usual expression of stubborn refusal to admit defeat—far from the maturity he would show in the future—Promise couldn't help but laugh.

Seeing this, Sigurd also started laughing.

Then, as the two of them sat together under the ancient tree, Sigurd gazed into the distance, looking toward Midgard, the realm of humans.

After a brief silence, Sigurd suddenly asked, "Nor, what do you want to do when you grow up?"

Hearing this, Promise did not answer immediately, instead, tilted his head to look at him,

Seeing the longing and brightness in his eyes, he asked, "What about you?"

"Me?" Sigurd laughed, his voice clear and bright as he replied, "Of course, I want to become a great hero, just like my father!"

The name Sigmund echoed throughout Midgard, so it was no surprise that Sigurd, his own child, having grown up hearing tales of his father, harbored such dreams.

"As for me... since I'm already here, I might as well wander around, paint a few pictures, and see if I can burn down that tree."

Promise answered in a casual tone, as if he were talking about something utterly mundane.

Then, as if remembering something, he suddenly added, "Especially that wolf and that snake—I really want to paint them both."

The legendary demon wolf that devours the heavens and the earth, the terrifying beast that swallowed Zeus, the King of the Gods—Fenrir, the God-Slaying Wolf!

And the serpent that encircles the world, who fought a mortal combat with Thor, the god of Thunder, and perished with the strongest fighting force in Greece—Jörmungandr, the World Serpent!

"Burning trees, painting, wolves, and snakes... what kind of nonsense is this?" Sigurd was utterly confused by Promise's so-called dreams.

Then, he shook his head and said, "Forget it. If you ask me, it's simpler to just follow in my father's footsteps and become a hero whose name resounds across Midgard!"

Sigurd flashed a bright smile, stood up, and extended his hand to Promise. As he spoke."Come on, in a couple of years, we'll return to Midgard together. By then, the Valkyries will surely descend and bring us victory!"

The Valkyries, the choosers of the slain.

They wear feathered helmets, don exquisite battle armor, and ride white steeds back and forth between Asgard and Midgard, fulfilling the mission bestowed upon them by the king of gods, Odin: to seek out the souls of glorious heroes in the human realm.

In Norse mythology, they also symbolize victory in war.

It is said that when they appear, they bring victory to the heroes they choose, and they will stay by the chosen hero's side until the other person dies.

And then, they guide their heroic souls to the grand halls of Valhalla.

Promise looked at Sigurd's outstretched hand in front of him and the smile on his face.

In such a situation, what else could he say?

After all, ten years had already passed.

So, Promise had no choice but to reach out and take his hand.

Then, the two of them returned to the cave, where they met their nominal foster father, the dwarf Mime.

Mime looked at the two people who came back and after Sigurd greeted him, he nodded slightly and then turned to attend to his own tasks.

Promise looked at Mime's retreating figure, as if remembering something, and then glanced at Sigurd beside him.

Incidentally, Sigurd was also a "patricide," and the father he killed was none other than his foster father, the dwarf Mime.

Though this act was more out of necessity, as the dwarf Mime had initially taken in Sigurd with ulterior motives and schemes.

And under the circumstances at that time, if Sigurd hadn't killed Mime, he would have been killed by him instead.

The root of it all was a curse and a treasure that even the gods could not resist.

A blessing that grants the possessor all the wealth in the world.

A curse that dooms the possessor to a lifetime of misfortune.

The cursed golden ring—the Rhinegold!

It turned out that the dwarf named Mime had a brother, and that brother's name was Fafnir, the very dragon that was later slain by Sigurd!

Fafnir wasn't a dragon at first.

His transformation into one was the result of the curse of the Rhinegold.

In Norse mythology, there is a river called the Rhine, inhabited by many nymphs who guard the river's greatest treasure—the Rhinegold.

Initially, the dwarf Fafnir was drawn to the nymphs, yearning for love, and approached them. But he was quickly captivated by the Rhinegold.

Upon learning the news that whoever possessed the Rhinegold would gain the world's greatest wealth and power, Fafnir decisively abandoned love and stole the gold... Well, the main reason he gave up on love was that all of his advances were all rejected by the nymphs.

After obtaining the Rhinegold, Fafnir forged it into the cursed golden ring.

The theft of the Rhinegold and the weeping of the Rhine nymphs quickly spread throughout Midgard and even across the nine realms of Yggdrasil.

Everyone...Gods, elves, and giants alike all came to know of it.

By this time, Fafnir, who had been completely consumed by the curse of the Rhinegold, had lost his mind.

To eternally protect his power and wealth, he was utterly devoured by the curse, transforming into the mindless dragon Fafnir, who devoured all who sought to take the ring.

Mime, the dwarf, was one of them.

Even though his initial intention had been to free his brother from his torment.

But when he saw the glow of the Rhinegold, he too was bewitched, becoming obsessed with obtaining it.

And this was the true reason he had taken in Sigurd.

Just as Promise was pondering all this,

"Nor, a batch of excellent materials has arrived today."

Mime suddenly called out and stopped Promise, even offering him a smile as he said, "Would you like to join me in forging?"

Mime was an exceptionally skilled dwarf, having lived for countless years.

To describe his strength in a simple way, this dwarf possessed the ability to forge divine weapons.

The weapon Sigurd would use in the future to slay the eveil dragon Fafnir, the prototype of the sword in the stone story pierced by Odin's spear of eternity Gungnir—the holy sword Gram (Gramr), was reforged by Mime using iron from the underworld, with a scabbard made from the leaves of Yggdrasil.

Dwarves live their entire lives forging; they are born to craft.

Thus, when Promise accidentally displayed the knowledge of forging from the greek mythology, passed down from his teacher, the Greek god of craftsmanship Hephaestus, along with divine techniques,

Mime's attitude toward this child sent by the Norn of the Future changed.

From moment onwards, he was no longer as indifferent as he was to Sigurd, but was rather kind an friendly.

In fact, Mime had been diligently teaching Promise his forging techniques.

The only thing that troubled him and made him regretful was Promise's physical weakness.

After all, now way..he was just too weak ...

As time went by, Promise's strength remained that of an infant.

This left Mime constantly worried about whether Promise would ever have the strength to lift a hammer and forge.

"Sure, I'll come."

Promise nodded, snapping out of his thoughts, and turned around to find the hammer forged from the feather-stone that never sinks in water... Well..because his strength was too weak, so Mime had spent a long time crafting this hammer, which Promise could barely use.

He walked over to Mime and joined him in forging.

Together, they worked on crafting weapons for Sigurd.

Mime was very dedicated to this task, but Promise knew it was all in vain.

Because Sigurd's fate was already sealed from the moment he was born.

He couldn't wield any weapon except the one destined for him—the broken holy sword that had yet to be reforged.

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