112

Summoning of Cul

Forseti meticulously recalled the details of the Talent Mixture's production, a process he had grown intimately familiar with over the years.

However, despite his extensive knowledge, executing the procedure presented numerous challenges. The production was not only tedious and intricate but also demanded strict adherence to timing.

The Talent Mixture had to be completed within seven days from production to consumption; otherwise, its efficacy would significantly diminish.

Moreover, considering the Thunderbolt Fruit was exclusively harvested from the Thunder Valley, meticulous planning of the production process was essential to avoid wasted effort.

"Hey..."

Just as Forseti pondered these complexities, Little Shilut stirred from his slumber, rubbing his eyes in confusion as he sat up on the bed.

"You're finally awake." Forseti greeted him with a smile.

As Shilut sat upright, squinting his eyes, Forseti noticed not only had he grown considerably taller since awakening but had also sprouted teeth.

Previously, Forseti had worried Shilut might not develop teeth, which would necessitate grinding stones to feed him since Shilut was consuming food constantly.

Shilut's teeth, though small like those of a human infant, were gleaming white and remarkably solid in texture.

Forseti found a brittle stone and handed it to Shilut.

Shilut promptly chewed the stone with a satisfying "click" before swallowing it.

"Come on, say 'Shilut'." Forseti attempted to teach him to speak.

"Hey." Shilut looked puzzled.

"I'm Shilut."

"Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

Forseti: "..."

This little creature was intelligent, and Forseti expected him to speak logically. Why was he still only making sounds, albeit peculiar ones?

Later that evening, Eir returned home, deep in thought, carrying an armful of ingredients.

"Sister, what's troubling you?" Forseti inquired.

Eir clearly enjoyed being addressed as "sister". Her face lit up each time she heard it. She sat down and casually replied, "It's nothing, something happened at the Cave of Time."

"What happened?" Forseti's heart skipped a beat.

"A man impersonating a Vanir God sneaked into the Cave of Time and seemed to have provoked the Norn Spirit," Eir explained.

"Who?"

Eir shook her head, "I'm not sure. He goes by the name Illidan, a hunter from Vanaheim, but upon investigation, no such person exists."

Forseti pondered for a moment, "Isn't the Norn Spirit powerful enough to locate him?"

"It should be... but strangely, the Norn Spirit seems clueless," Eir said.

Forseti breathed a sigh of relief.

The enigmatic origins of the Norn Spirit made it unpredictable. Despite having concealed his identity with the Holy Deed, Forseti couldn't help but worry if the Norn Spirit possessed means to reveal his true self.

Now it seemed he had been overthinking it.

"Hey, why did you purchase so many ingredients?" Forseti noticed the items Eir was carrying.

Eir replied, "Aren't you leaving tomorrow? I wanted to prepare something delicious for you."

Forseti's life had become remarkably comfortable lately. Each day, he enjoyed Eir's homemade delicacies, surpassing even the tavern's finest wine and meat. It made him appreciate having a sister.

...

The next day, Forseti and other hunters traveled the Rainbow Bridge back to Asgard.

However, not long after Forseti returned home, a Valkyrie arrived at his doorstep.

"Forseti Garrison?" the Valkyrie asked.

"Yes."

"The Allfather wishes to see you. Please come with me," the Valkyrie informed him.

Forseti was momentarily stunned, a twinge of nervousness creeping in. He couldn't help but recall how he had inadvertently caused Princess Skadi's fiasco during the Hunt Festival, fearing Odin might wish to punish him for it.

Accompanied by the Valkyrie, Forseti arrived at the Asgard Palace, passing through several corridors until they reached an metal gate.

"The Allfather wishes to see you alone. Please proceed," the Valkyrie said, then turned and departed.

With her departure, the once spacious corridor now felt eerily cold and eerily silent.

Unlike Odin's jovial and warm demeanor, Odin's presence exuded solemnity, his preferred architectural style darker.

Standing before the closed iron gate, Forseti sensed an unnerving atmosphere, swallowing nervously...

Entering was his choice, but not seeing Odin was not.

Thus, after hesitating briefly, Forseti pushed the door and stepped inside.

"Creak..." The door emitted a haunting sound, sending a shiver down Forseti's spine.

Beyond the door lay a dimly lit chamber, the only illumination filtering through a few narrow slits, casting faint sunlight from the setting sun outside.

Hesitantly, Forseti took a few cautious steps into the chamber.

"Boom!"

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind him. Instantly, all light vanished, plunging the room into complete darkness.

"Father of the Gods!" Forseti exclaimed, his voice tinged with fear.

Yet, in the dimness, there was no response from Odin.

Then, a guttural cry pierced the darkness, and a dark figure materialized before Forseti, wielding a warhammer.

Forseti reacted swiftly, drawing Verrigan's Fist with his right hand while conjuring a shield of light with his left.

"Crack!"

At the critical moment, the Holy Light Shield intercepted the warhammer blow, though it shattered and dissipated.

Illuminated by the shield's light, Forseti saw the figure's face clearly.

"This..." His eyes widened in shock.

Half of the figure's visage resembled a decaying corpse, with exposed bones and withered flesh, while the other half bore a normal human appearance—eerily identical to Forseti's own!

The figure smirked, a chilling sight.

"Blinding Light!"

Forseti unleashed a burst of brilliant light from his hands, directed straight at the figure's face.

Yet, the figure remained unaffected, raising its hammer for another strike.

"Crack!"

The Holy Light Shield crumbled under the assault, dissipating into thin air.

Swiftly, Forseti countered the incoming blows.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Their warhammers clashed repeatedly, neither gaining the upper hand in skill, though Forseti appeared marginally more adept. However, the figure possessed greater raw power than him.

To worsen matters, the figure seemed impervious to harm. Even when Verrigan's Fist ignited flames that engulfed its hand, it displayed no reaction, as if the pain belonged to someone else.

Despite landing a solid hit with his hammer, Forseti's efforts proved futile.

Soon, Forseti found himself on the defensive, drenched in sweat as he struggled against the figure's relentless onslaught.

"Bang!" The figure's hammer struck Forseti's chest, sending him reeling and coughing up blood as he was flung backward.

"Cough... cough..."

Struggling to his feet, Forseti staggered back, eyes wide with terror.

Just then, the Holy Deed at his waist suddenly glowed, its pointer of light extending and pointing to the side.

Without hesitation, Forseti swung his hammer at the Holy Light's pointer.