Chapter 88: The Weight of Prophecy

“I’ve come today to inquire about Fafnir.”

Aldoran settled into her seat and nodded towards Eden.

“Fafnir, you say? I see.” Eden mused, propping his chin with his hand.

“Do you have any results regarding what I mentioned earlier?”

“Yes.” Aldoran handed the paper Olivia had given her to Eden, who unfolded it and scanned its contents before carefully folding it back and returning it to Aldoran.

“Then, please tell me, what is it you wish to know?”

“Just how powerful is Fafnir’s strength?”

“Regarding that,” Eden tilted his head, pondering for a few seconds, “at least for now, the academic community generally believes that the maximum magical capacity a Fafnir can withstand is that of a first-tier low-level high-grade spell.”

“Understood.” Aldoran listened intently, nodding occasionally.

“What is it, Aldoran, my dear? Does the Fafnir in the cave already possess such a level of magic?”

“No, she doesn’t possess such immense power right now. I can feel that she would require an enormous amount of magic to reach the level you speak of.”

“I see. Then there’s still a chance, isn’t there?” Eden exhaled in relief, slumping back onto the bed with a long sigh. “As long as she hasn’t reached her peak state, you still have an opportunity.”

“If all else fails, then perhaps little Forseti…”

“What?”

“No, no, nothing at all!” Eden quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, sitting up from the head of the bed.

Seeing Eden’s reluctance to elaborate, Aldoran pressed no further, instead shifting her questions to other matters.

For two full hours, Aldoran delved into numerous questions about Fafnir, from the creature’s physical structure to its race’s command over magic. Aldoran posed almost every question she could conceive of, and Eden patiently answered them all.

“Thank you very much.” Finally, Aldoran rose to her feet, expressing her gratitude to Eden. “We shall take our leave for today, then.”

“It’s truly nothing at all! I’m happy to help you all.” Eden smiled, seeing Aldoran and Qing Yu to the door, waving goodbye to them.

“Farewell, then.”

“Goodbye.”

****

Meanwhile, within Fafnir’s cave, a cloaked figure was relentlessly searching through its depths.

This was Forseti, who had concealed her presence with magic, swiftly moving from one room to the next.

“Not here.”

“Nothing in this one.”

“Nor here.”

Not a single door concealed a soul; the entire cave was eerily silent.

As door after door was opened and closed, Forseti’s footsteps quickened, her expression growing increasingly anxious.

“Where is the entrance, exactly…?” Forseti muttered, opening yet another wooden door. This time, she found something. What appeared before her was a small cookhouse, where an Old Woman sat. Hearing the door open, the Old Woman turned her head, her green pupils fixed intently upon the doorway.

Forseti met those eyes, her fingers twitching imperceptibly.

The appearance of the person before her was utterly unfamiliar to Forseti, yet the magic emanating from her, that distinct aura, was something Forseti recognized with absolute certainty.

A peculiar energy began to circulate within the room.

With a soft thud, Forseti closed the door, and the aura of magic dissipated from around her. Under the Old Woman’s calm gaze, Forseti walked forward and quietly sat down before her.

The Old Woman smiled, pushing a cup filled with tea across the table towards Forseti.

“It’s been a long time, Forseti.”

“Indeed, Lady Mimir. You’ve adopted a new form again.”

Forseti offered a faint smile, patiently awaiting the Old Woman named Mimir to speak.

The Old Woman seemed in no hurry. She quietly observed Forseti, her fingers continuously stroking her chin, her jewel-like eyes narrowing slightly as she thoroughly scrutinized Forseti.

Forseti possessed immense patience, gracefully enduring the Old Woman’s assessment without a hint of impatience.

“You appear much more mature now, Forseti. The first time I saw you, you were just a little girl.”

After a long pause, Mimir finally chuckled, revealing a row of pristine white teeth, making the smile that bloomed on her aged face appear so benevolent. No one would ever suspect that such a seemingly kind Old Woman would aid and abet evil, helping Fafnir bring ruin upon countless lives.

“I believe so as well. Time always passes so quickly.”

Forseti took a delicate sip of tea, engaging in polite conversation with Mimir. Yet, behind that sweet smile, Forseti was contemplating how to broach the subject of Aldoran and the others with Mimir.

Forseti had never been adept at questioning others.

The Old Woman’s eyes, like a hawk’s, keenly seized upon every thought within Forseti’s mind. However, the Old Woman did not expose her, instead mirroring Forseti’s composure, sipping her fragrant tea, maintaining an air of tranquil detachment.

“Forseti, you’ve come this time, no doubt, with something to ask me?”

Finally, Mimir spoke. She set down her teacup and looked at Forseti.

This provided Forseti with an opening. Since Mimir had brought it up herself, Forseti simply had to follow her lead.

“Yes, that’s right. I actually have a few things I wished to ask you during this visit.”

“Oh, then please, speak.”

Mimir leaned back, her hands clasped in her lap, watching Forseti with a faint smile, her thoughts unknown.

“Regarding the statue displayed in the Alastor Zoo.”

“The statue of the Young Woman and the Tree—you created it, didn’t you?” Forseti looked at Mimir expectantly, awaiting her reply.

Mimir’s eyes rolled upwards slightly, and after a few seconds of thought, she gave an affirmative answer.

“That’s correct. As you know, I have a habit of recording my prophecies.”

“Then, concerning Lord Odin and Frigga…” Forseti paused, mentally rehearsing her next words, considering how to approach Mimir.

As the sculptor of the statue, Mimir naturally understood what Forseti was referring to. There was only one Lord Odin and one Frigga, so Forseti’s words naturally alluded to Mimir’s act of slaying them in Alastor, as depicted in the carving.

“You wish to ask why I would kill them, is that right?”

“Precisely that. Why would you do such a thing, Lady Mimir? Shouldn’t you be Lord Odin and Frigga’s guiding light?”

Forseti appeared utterly bewildered, her eyes brimming with incomprehension. She faced Mimir, hoping for a logical explanation.

Mimir did not answer Forseti directly. She observed Forseti for several minutes, then slowly raised her teacup, holding it in her hands, and posed a series of questions to Forseti.

These questions precisely tore open the fresh wounds in the young woman’s heart, and those unbearable memories of the past surfaced gradually under Mimir’s probing questions—

“Forseti, have you truly considered it carefully?”

“You’ve been traveling, haven’t you, Forseti? So, tell me, comparing the people you’ve met on your journeys with our past selves, who do you believe is happier?”

Forseti froze, the hand holding her teacup trembling imperceptibly for a moment. She didn’t know what expression to make, nor how to answer Mimir’s question.

Forseti had journeyed through countless eras, and without a doubt, in her eyes, people were happy. Compared to their past selves, people now lived the most joyous years of their lives.

Carefree and unburdened, everyone’s life was filled with happiness and joy.

Seeing Forseti in a daze, Mimir’s expression gradually grew serious.

“Your grandmother hung from the branches of the World Tree for nine full days, sacrificed one of her eyes, and drank from the Spring of Wisdom, bringing you all wisdom. But what was the outcome? Is your future truly as she had hoped?”

“You lived counting the days, perpetually encircled by fear and unease, everything you did was in preparation for the destruction foreseen by Lord Odin. Did you ever truly experience happiness?”

“Your grandmother, to greet that day, spent her entire life preparing for it. Do you believe she was happy?”

“And then, one person after another came before me, underwent my trials, and witnessed the future. Yet what was the result? Did they truly escape the fate of destruction?”

“Knowing their future, did they ever experience happiness?”

“But… but…”

Forseti desperately tried to formulate an answer to Mimir’s questions, but as she racked her brain, she realized she had never truly contemplated the questions Mimir posed. She had always striven towards her goals, yet never once considered the true meaning of her actions.

Mimir’s words were like a sharp blade, piercing deep into the very core of Forseti’s being, blow by agonizing blow, shattering the last vestiges of Forseti’s inner defenses.

“I granted your wish, allowing one new incarnation of Lord Odin after another to glimpse the future. But what was the outcome? Not a single one escaped destruction. The World Tree cycled through its rebirths time and again. Did those eras that witnessed destruction ever truly know joy?”

“Everyone unwillingly sought to resist, but what was the result?”

Mimir stood up, her voice lashing mercilessly at Forseti’s spirit, tormenting the bewildered young woman.

“But, if…”

“You understand, don’t you? Those emblems, those gems imbued with modern power, will invariably guide Lord Odin here, to drink from the Spring of Wisdom, and once again repeat the fate of destruction.”

Mimir seemed somewhat agitated. She approached Forseti, lifting her chin to gaze directly into her panicked eyes.

“Since destruction is inevitable, why not simply allow these people to continue slumbering in their cradle of happiness, Forseti?”

“Therefore, before Lord Odin can obtain the waters of the Spring of Wisdom, I will completely eradicate all of it. All life should simply continue to slumber in its cradle of happiness, awaiting destruction.”

Upon Mimir’s declaration, Forseti pushed her hand away. The usually gentle young woman’s eyes seemed to well up with tears as she bowed her head, covering her face.

“It’s all my fault. If only I hadn’t fled from destruction in fear from the very beginning, but had instead fought alongside my grandmother and the others…”

“Then such things would never have come to pass.”

“First my mother, then Lord Odin, and finally, the Age of Gods…”

“All utterly destroyed…”