Chapter 16: The Eight-Legged Steed and a Wife’s Worry

Although she had pledged to assist the Harpies in resolving their predicament, Aldoran still lacked a clear strategy for how to proceed.

With no intel on her adversary, she could only piece together information from the Harpies’ fragmented accounts.

From the intelligence she had gathered, the adversary was an eight-legged white steed, capable of assuming the form of a young maiden.

This creature boasted mastery over light-attribute magic, possessed unparalleled speed, and demonstrated considerable skill with wind-attribute spells.

Conversely, it appeared less proficient in close-quarters combat, preferring to unleash offensive magic during skirmishes.

Its command of enhancement magic was notably sparse, and it seldom resorted to supportive spells.

In essence, it represented a high-offense, low-defense archetype.

‘If that holds true, then with the abilities bestowed by the emblem, I should be able to contend with it.’

Perched upon the sturdy branch of a Whitefeather tree, Aldoran mused.

‘As long as I possess the “Chains of Oblivion,” no adversary will pose a true challenge.’

The pressing question remained: how to locate it.

“Aldoran, there you are! I’ve been searching for you everywhere,” Qing Yu’s voice drifted from beside her ear.

Aldoran turned to see Qing Yu, his face beaded with sweat, cautiously making his way along the branches toward her.

With a snap of Aldoran’s fingers, a soft blue radiance instantly enveloped Qing Yu, drawing him gently to her side.

“How did your training go this morning?” Aldoran inquired, delicately dabbing the sweat from his brow.

She hadn’t anticipated the torrent that would follow; no sooner had she asked than Qing Yu began to lament his woes to Aldoran—

“Miss Thrud’s training is simply too rigorous; she’s like a completely different person from her usual self,” Qing Yu complained, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his arm to Aldoran.

“Aldoran, you never mentioned Miss Thrud would actually strike people!”

Observing the marks on Qing Yu’s arm, Aldoran gently patted his hand, and a soft blue energy coiled around his limb, slowly beginning its restorative work.

“The Valkyries are invariably stern during training; Thrud acts for your own benefit, simply wishing your efforts to bear fruit swiftly.

Please try to forgive her.”

“Even I was struck during my own training with them, often to the extent that I couldn’t rise.”

Gazing at Qing Yu’s aggrieved expression, Aldoran leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Nonetheless, if this truly displeases you, I will instruct Thrud to exercise more restraint.

She will not physically strike you again, alright?”

Upon hearing her words, a triumphant smile finally bloomed on Qing Yu’s face.

In truth, Qing Yu was capable of enduring hardship, but he had never imagined that Thrud, who typically appeared mild-mannered and utterly harmless, would become so utterly ruthless when training.

Even the slightest misstep would be seized upon and corrected with a merciless hand, a stark contrast to Aldoran, who indulged his occasional laziness.

‘Valkyries are truly terrifying.’

“That’s wonderful! Thank you, Aldoran!” Qing Yu exclaimed with a cheer.

“Very well, since your morning training has concluded, you should rest thoroughly.

This afternoon, feel free to pursue whatever you desire, and I will arrange for Thrud to accompany you.”

“And what about you, Aldoran?”

“I still need to devise a strategy for confronting that eight-legged horse,” Aldoran stated. “My initial concern is how to draw her out.”

“Perhaps some fodder? A horse would surely be drawn to that, wouldn’t it?”

Aldoran shook her head, gently refuting Qing Yu’s suggestion.

“It’s not that straightforward.

It possesses the ability to assume human form, and its intellect is far from negligible.

Otherwise, it couldn’t have plagued these residents with such cunning.”

“Then, perhaps it would be more expedient to consult the residents?” Qing Yu proposed once more.

“After all, they have had the most prolonged encounters with the horse, and thus should possess the deepest understanding of its habits.

This, he believed, was the most logical approach.”

“I have already inquired,” Aldoran replied. “Even the residents are none the wiser.

The horse manifests without a fixed schedule or location, always appearing unexpectedly.

Some inhabitants previously attempted to track it, hoping to locate its lair and then seek assistance in its capture.

However, its speed proved insurmountable; not even the Harpies, who boast exceptional swiftness, could keep pace with it.”

Aldoran shook her head once more, a hint of vexation clouding her features.

The gem, too, offered no further clues; after merely indicating that she was to confront the horse, it had ceased to sparkle, maintaining only a faint, dull luminescence.

She longed to invoke the authority granted by the emblem, yet deploying her powers to locate a horse whose tracks were utterly untraceable, without any guiding signs, felt akin to searching for a needle in an immense ocean.

“Hmm—” Qing Yu, too, began to fret.

“It’s quite alright; you needn’t trouble yourself so,” Aldoran reassured him, gently patting his head as she observed his distress.

“Simply leave this matter to me.

For now, you should endeavor to acquaint yourself with this world.”

“No, that won’t do,” Qing Yu insisted, waving his hand dismissively.

“Aldoran, you have done so much for me; if I cannot offer you any assistance, I would be deeply troubled.

Moreover, as your wife, it is only fitting that I help alleviate some of your burdens.”

“Is that so?” A rare, gentle smile softened Aldoran’s typically reserved features.

“I appreciate your sentiment, and it warms my heart, but please entrust this matter to me.

There is no need for you to fret over it.”

“But…” Qing Yu started, though Aldoran gently pressed her index finger to his lips, silencing him.

“It will be fine; simply leave it to me,” Aldoran affirmed, her gaze fixed on Qing Yu’s eyes.

In the reflection of her lake-blue pupils, Qing Yu glimpsed the faint tendrils of smoke rising in the distance behind them.

The inviting aroma of cooking wafted into his nostrils.

“Well, it appears to be lunchtime,” she continued. “You should go and rest first.

You must fill your stomach to gain the strength necessary to comprehend this world.

As for this matter, simply leave it in my hands.”

Before Qing Yu could utter another word, Aldoran enveloped his form in a soft blue energy, gently carrying him like a small boat.

She guided him toward the treehouse, where delicate wisps of smoke ascended and the tantalizing scent of a meal now beckoned.

‘Now, then, it was time to resume her contemplation of how to deal with that creature.’

****

Having seen Qing Yu off, Aldoran found herself compelled to resume her strategizing, pondering how best to lure the white steed.

The midday forest was profoundly tranquil, the sun’s gentle radiance filtering through the dense canopy of leaves to caress one’s face, imparting a sense of warmth, serenity, and deep peace.

A faint breeze stirred, carrying with it the delicate fragrance of Whitefeather blossoms.

The wind in the central courtyard always moved with such a languid grace, a gentle caress that bore the perfume of unknown flowers, carrying with it the subtly cool essence of the East.

The wind… The wind… The wind…

A sudden realization struck Aldoran, and she lifted her gaze.

Just then, a pristine Whitefeather petal drifted down, settling perfectly into her palm, exuding a faint, sweet fragrance.

If the adversary’s speed truly defied even the swift Harpies, then its passage would undeniably generate a significant current of air—a gale so rapid, she would surely be able to perceive it.

It would manifest as a howling tempest.

Despite the considerable strain her perceptive abilities currently imposed, Aldoran resolved to attempt it nonetheless.

Aldoran rose to her feet, shaking off the stray dust that clung to her.

Within her pale blue eyes, a nascent brilliance began to stir, and as the gentle breeze gradually intensified, that light coalesced into the form of a soaring falcon, its wings spread wide, mirrored in the depths of Aldoran’s gaze.

“Wind—” Aldoran murmured, and luminous blue magical circuits gradually manifested, flowing within her open palm.

The gem embedded in her wristband emitted an immaculate glow, and under Aldoran’s focused gaze, it began to weave an eagle-shaped arcane circle.

A gentle breeze, imbued with the shimmering radiance of blue magic, gradually enfolded Aldoran’s form, causing pure white petals to swirl and dance gracefully around her.

“Please, reveal to me its destination—”

The wind whispered secrets, brushing past Aldoran’s ear.

And within her eyes, the distant, boundless azure sky began to materialize.

Beneath that celestial dome, a sacred white steed neighed, its form emerging with magnificent wings of shimmering white light, forged from the very tempest itself.

These ethereal wings unfurled at the horse’s flanks, and in that breathtaking instant, countless pure white downy feathers cascaded from the heavens.

“That is—” A bead of sweat traced a path down her brow.

A whisper seemed to graze her ear, a voice so faint yet astonishingly distinct, each word resonating with perfect clarity.

And within her mind’s eye, myriad white lines began to coalesce.

The white steed neighed as it galloped across the heavens.

Even amidst its aerial dash, each powerful stride echoed with a resounding clang, its four hooves seemingly conjuring the very wind beneath them, covering immense distances with every bound.

The gentle breeze intensified into a gale, then escalated into a fierce hurricane, enveloping the white horse and transforming it into a razor-sharp blade that cleaved the boundless firmament, rending the azure sky.

That was—

Aldoran’s pupils quivered.

The myriad pure white lines writhed and coalesced, forming a rapid succession of images that flashed with an ungraspable speed before swiftly receding from her consciousness, forgotten.

Yet, in direct opposition, something else was crystallizing with increasing clarity within Aldoran’s mind.

Ever more distinct.

The lines intertwined, twisting, layering, and overlapping.

Something profound was slowly taking shape.

The white steed continued its furious dash, its destination unknown.

Everywhere it traversed, pure white feathers were shed, drifting softly through the emerald sky.

That was—

The intricate pattern formed by the white lines in her mind grew increasingly lucid, punctuated by the rhythmic “clop-clop” of the white horse’s hooves.

A profound resonance echoed within Aldoran’s consciousness, a deafening “rumble” that made her feel as though her very brain was on the verge of bursting.

That was, that was—

Her lips trembled.

Within Aldoran’s mind, something abruptly exploded, causing all fragments of memory to dissipate, leaving only the radiant emblem of the white steed with unfurled wings, and the name awaiting utterance—

The eight-legged divine steed—

Sleipnir.