ã€ŠHardcore Dungeon Core - A MMAG spinoff.ã€‹


 1 - A book spme girl once read

    Take heed and bear witness to the truths that lie herein for they are the true account of the end of the world.

    Ragnarok is a term that sends fear down the spine of the bravest of the warriors. The twilight of the gods and the end of the world. It was foretold and is inescapable fate. As it came to pass, I stood witness to the destruction of the worlds.

    I might start by introducing myself. I was called Ragnar by my parents in the golden city of Nidavellir. A dwarf by birth and heart, I happily toiled in the great forges of King Hreidmar. I saw things of wonder and death crafted in equal measures out of outlandish metals. But there was another calling stronger than the forge. War. Prince ¨®tr was murdered by wretched Loki and we answered our Liege''s call. To war against the aesir we went. In the fields of Ida we clashed, and for seven days dwarf fought aesir.

    In the seventh day, Odin demanded parley. It was decided that Loki would pay ¨®tr''s wergeld. I never saw what happened because I perished in the sixth day, crushed under the hooves of Tanngrisnir. Our fierce stand against gods was not without reward. Many of us were admitted into the halls of Valhalla as Einheriar. We fought, drank and whored as it was our right for millennia. And then it came to pass.

    Nidhogg killed the root of Yggdrasil firmly nested in Niflheim. Jormungand erupted from the oceans of Midgard, crying for the blood of gods. Fenrir broke his chains and came to fight and kill Odin. Skol and Hati devoured Sun and Moon going for the stars as their neverending hunger demanded. We marched out of Valhalla to fight the battle of battles.

    I was sent to Midgard. There we found a changed land. In the eons that passed, the nations of men grew in power but not wisdom. A poisoned land, filled by the fruits of industry and craft not unlike our dwarven lands but on the surface. Our armies of eternal warriors were met by weapons of peerless destruction. Men were no longer the weakest race of the nine realms. They flew on metal birds, rode on metal horses that spewed fire and death out of their nostrils. Not only Einheriar came to do battle. Giants of frost and stone also descended from Nalgfar led by Loki from the land of the dead and men responded with great pillars of fire that obliterated all, laying waste to their own lands before surrender. Jormungand''s death throes after being slain by Thor sent massive waves, drowning entire continents.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    But we trained for ages. We fought and killed in a chaotic madness where there was no longer right or wrong. And then I met my second death. A weapon of fire and light everlasting destroyed our band of Enheriar and I floated above the destroyed lands as a wayward spirit. And I could see it all as if it was my fate to bear witness to what happened. Amidst the chaos, my sight went far and wide. The wolf Garm was slain by the Aesir god Tyr and his cousin Freyr killed the fire giant King Surtr. None of the gods lived longer than their foes, mortal wounds claiming them in their moment of weakness.

    Nidhogg''s venom killed Yggdrasil and the great ash tree that held the realms together crumbled. The realms would regrow and live anew if the great tree stood but now they floated aimlessly in the sky. The great rainbow bridge broke, its shards falling like stars upon Midgard. Separated, the realms would crumble to nothingness. In Midgard, entire continents fell from the edge into the void.

    The remaining gods, Baldr that escaped from Helheim, Modi and Magni sons of Thor and others returned to Asgard on the last portal and drove their realm to crash against Vanaheim, giving both some degree of stability. They were about to do the same to Alfenheim but King Oberon of the elves chose to side with Midgard. They wove a spell to bring their Realm closer to Midgard and in the backlash between Oberon''s and Baldr''s magic, Jotunheim and Myrkheim were attracted together. I witnessed the death of Oberon, his wife Titania, and several of the Aesir gods. In the lower Realms, Muspelheim and Niflheim joined on diametrical sides from Svartalfheim, morphing into a realm of fire, ice, death, and shadows. The son of Hela and Hodur ruled over these lands.

    I floated around watching as the remnants of past glory were all but forgotten. More than three-fourths of Midgard were destroyed, crumbled into nothingness in the sea of the void and the rest became poisoned lands and waters. The daughter of the old sun rose after five thousand years and graced the land with her healing light. Stars were born after a long while. Very few men, elf, dwarf, and others survived, in the few pockets of land that could still bear life. They forgot their lore. They forgot their origins. They forgot their magic and technology.

    My spirit floated between the Realms for ages, my fate is to witness and remember. Time eroded memories and poison alike. Without Yggdrasil, the realms stand no chance of being restored to their former glory. I pray that my words survive. You that read this book, please spread the word.

 2 - Myrkheims Jewels

    Ragnar had the honor of being the Lorekeeper in King Hreidmar''s court. For centuries he toiled in the Great Library of Nidavellir. There, under a mile of stone and the melody of a thousand anvils forging weapons and armor, he lived among books and scrolls containing the wisdom of a dozen worlds.

    He couldn''t keep reading. Something bothered him.

    But the omens were there. Already dark whispers warned people of incoming Ragnarok. The end of all ages was nigh at hand. Ragnar sighed. It could be just a false alarm, but why was he so on an edge?

    A herald entered the library. "Loremaster, His Majesty summoned you," the young dwarf announced and left as fast as he came.

    The Lorekeeper knew better than to leave the King under the Earth waiting. He stood from the desk and barked orders to his apprentices before leaving the library. ''I hope they don''t set it on fire,'' he mused with a chuckle to ease his tension.

    Nidavellir, the golden city, was alive with activity. He saw battalions of warriors marching on the stone bridges and passages above and below him. Were they going to war? Was that what disquieted the Loremaster so much?

    He made his way to the throne room. The ancient halls of the dwarves beckoned him, whispers of glory old and new. Like when the sons of Ivaldi bested Loki and gifted the Aesir with mighty weapons. But they also told tales of tragedy and ruin. The dvergar princes were missing. ¨°tr was killed by Loki, Fafnir is rumored to have turned into a mad dragon. Regin left to raise a human hero. The tall columns and the smog of the forges felt nostalgic for him.

    The hall of King Hreidmar could hold thousands of dwarves. His liege once assembled legions there to take them to fight an incursion by Surtr''s forces. Now, it was almost empty. Only the King, some nobles, and a few guards. His eyes found Hreidmar wearing his battle armor. Not the ceremonial battle armor, but the one made for actual combat. Ragnar was surprised. What could prompt Hreidmar to prepare for battle?

    He knelt at the proper place. The King turned to face him. "Stand, old friend. Doom is upon our doorstep and we shall meet it head-on like dwarves are ought to do!" He bellowed with a chortle.

    "What would you have me do, my liege?" Ragnar said without raising his head.

    "Stay by my side. See and hear our last moments. Be our witness as we march into ruin," The King answered without letting the grim situation tarnish his mirth.

    Ragnar raised his head. Hreimdar had his shoulders squared and his spine straighter than ever before. His eyes had the fire of a hundred forges burning behind them. The King approached and put a hand on the scholar''s shoulder.

    "Though this world is doomed, though the V?lusp¨¢ sang our end, it is only this world that ends, my friend."

    Hreidmar''s firm hands pulled Ragnar on his feet. "I don''t understand, my lord."

    The King approached and spoke words only for the Lorekeeper''s ears. Mirth was replaced by gravitas and the weight of a mountain settled on Ragnar''s heart.

    "When a world ends, another begins anew from the ashes of the former. Jaffnhar bestowed me with a vision. Know that I march unto certain death with my people with the knowledge that every dwarf that breathes shall perish in the coming conflict, but this will not be our end. Only one of us will survive but that will be enough."

    Ragnar kept his mouth shut. Tempted as he was to weave words of praise, it wasn''t proper.

    "I shall do your bidding, my King. If we are to march into doom, so shall it be."

    Hreidmar replied with a wry smile. He could see that deep down the embers of the King''s heart-forge were dying down. The end was indeed upon them.

    "Yes, my friend Ragnar. Come with me. Tonight, we shall stand on the hills of Throlgret where we will fight to our last. But first, follow me. There is something I must show you."

    Ragnar followed the King into the inner palace. Towering columns of dark granite with specks of silver decorated the ancient hallways. Near the King''s own chambers, they entered a side bedroom. There he heard the unmistakable sound of a child crying.

    There was nobody in the room but them and the child. A marble crib dominated the middle of the room.

    Still silent, Ragnar approached the crib. There lied a newborn dwarf. A prince? Though the young royal''s features were too soft. Too... pretty.

    "If you wish for a sign of the end of time, look no further. Here''s the first dwarf princess to be born in decades. Here I present you with Hesliheidr, my granddaughter. You can pick her up."

    With extreme care and reverence, the Lorekeeper raised the newborn princess from the crib. The girl''s cries ceased and Ragnar met her hazel eyes. The shades of brown and green played around her irises, giving these orbs the appearance of jade gemstones.

    "She''s beautiful, Your Majesty!" Ragnar gasped.

    "Yes. Lofnheidr''s daughter. But she needs to be kept safe from her uncles and aunt. I lost ¨®tr to Loki''s machinations, and Fafnir was driven crazy by Andvari''s curse. Lyngheidr had a daughter a few decades ago, but that girl''s fate is to avenge me."

    "Your son wouldn''t dare!" Ragnar said, thinking of the prophecy that Fafnir would slay Hreidmar.

    "He''s been driven insane. Before Regin''s adoptive son kills him, I shall perish by my own child''s fangs. My fate is written in stone, old friend. But I do not shun from it," Hreidmar caressed the girl''s hair. "Every dwarf''s fate is the same. We shall all perish during Ragnarok. All but one. The Norns were merciful with this girl''s thread. She and her keeper will survive the end of the Nine Worlds and revive Nidavellir in the distant future. Through her, my bloodline shall survive."

    It hurt Ragnar''s chest as if a boulder had been placed over it. He sucked in the air and smelled the comfortable scent of molten slag and ashes. When he opened his eyes again, he found the King right in front of him, holding both his shoulders.

    "Ragnar, listen to me. What I said in the throne room, was a hoax. There are too many ears, too many eyes in there. Here is your task. Flee Nidavellir. Flee Myrkheim. Take the princess with you and keep her safe. You are to go to Midgard, the realm less affected by what is to come. Hide her there. Nurture her, watch her grow, teach her the ways of our people. This is a task only you, my Lorekeeper, can perform."

    Ragnar lowered his head and looked at the quiet princess. The girl raised a hand and touched his nose.

    "I shall do as you ask, my lord."

    "Sorry, friend. I am taking you out of the battlefield to live a beggar''s life. The humans of Midgard changed too much. Their industry now rivals ours, though they know nothing of magic. Take their guise. Hide among them. Jormungandr''s poisonous blood will kill the oceans, but humans will endure."

    Ragnar''s voice caught. He felt moisture in his eyes. "I shall do as you ask, my lord."

    "Go, friend. With the royal blood alive and the lore of Myrkheim in your head, we shall never be completely lost. I''m sorry, Ragnar."

    The Lorekeeper wished to die fighting at the side of his King, as was his place. To hide like a coward and flee from the battle was not a dvergar''s way. He closed his eyes and shapeshifted into a human, shrinking, and becoming lean. Hreidmar touched the princess''s brow and changed her shape into a fragile human baby.

    "Farewell, my King. Know that I''ll protect her with my life."

    Hreidmar squeezed Ragnar''s shoulder. The King of the dvergar looked like a black-skinned giant now.

    "Your fate is clouded to me, Ragnar. But you carry with you all our hopes. Take that pack over there. It has some Midgard currency and some books for you. Learn their culture. Keep my granddaughter safe."

    <hr>

    He changed into proper human clothes and slung the pack on his shoulder. Holding the princess in his arms like a precious jewel, Ragnar walked to the magical portal that would take him to Midgard under a cloaking spell cast by Hreidmar. The way was conspicuously deserted. Once he reached the massive gold and platinum arch, it flared to life on its own, connecting this dimension to another. On the other side, he saw a sprawling forest of stone, metal, and glass spires, a cavern without a roof. He smelled smog and oil, but nothing like what they had in Nidavellir. Metal carriages cruised on stones of black stone and tar.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The portal shifted its viewpoint and dashed from city to wilderness to city until it closed on a back alley. This place had two and three-story tall buildings only. He could see rectangular metal crucibles filled with garbage littering the walls of the alley. A narrow street ran in the middle but the alley too was deserted. The viewport stabilized and the connection settled. It was now safe to cross.

    He walked through the portal and felt the way back home close forever. Squinting to adapt to the bright sunlight, Ragnar walked out of the alley to emerge in a wide street. Humans of all kinds bustled to and fro, like ants preparing for winter.

    Hesliheidr stirred in his arms and started to cry.

    "Hungry, Your Highness?" Ragnar asked. The baby didn''t answer. "I think we need to find an inn fast. Let''s ask someone."

    The princess was sturdy as any dwarf should be. Ragnar soothed her and she stopped crying for now.

    He looked around. These humans didn''t use runes to write. Ragnar closed his eyes and attuned himself to the magic of the world. Midgard barely had any but what he found would suffice. He muttered the spell under his breath and coerced the world to reveal its secrets. The Loremaster''s spell plucked the knowledge of the human language out of the minds of the humans around him. It was too easy, the people barely had any resistance to magic. The knowledge flooded into his mind and he understood.

    "Their language is called English," he mumbled. "But where are we?"

    Ragnar walked around, dodging the pedestrian traffic. Reading the signs and asking for directions, he entered a side street and found a bookstore after wandering for a few minutes. "Chapter''s Charity Bookstore", the sign read. It was squeezed between a restaurant promising "chips & fish" and a shop that sold... vision aids? An optometrist, maybe?

    He entered and was quickly approached by a clerk wearing an apron.

    "Welcome to our Charity Bookstore, sir. I''m Sylvie and I''m at your service. All proceedings help fund the ''Hereford dial a ride'' initiative. How may I help you?"

    "Well met, young lady," Ragnar said trying to copy the local accent. "I''m visiting your beautiful town, and found myself in need of some local guidebook."

    She smiled. "You came to the right place. We are the largest second-hand bookstore in Hereford. This way, please."

    Hesliheidr decided she''s been too quiet and sounded her Royal displeasure at Ragnar''s ineptitude to keep Myrkheim''s scion fed.

    "Oh, she''s hungry," Sylvie remarked. "I have triplet sisters back home," she shared.

    "I need to feed her Highness. Where can I do so?"

    "Please, use our backroom," she replied looking at his backpack. "Do you have her formula there?"

    Ragnar nodded. "Yes. I have her food here with me."

    Ragnar had a few bottles of goat milk for the princess. He let Sylvie guide him to the backroom, walking around piles of paper books that littered the center of the shop. All the walls were covered in bookshelves but very few books had leather covers. Most of them were just bundles of paper. The Lorekeeper found himself a bit offended at the careless way the books were treated. Some of them were yellowed at the edges, a clear sign that there was no preservation spell on the bookshelves. He was itching to ask her what she meant by second-hand.

    he read some spines as they went. He wanted to read the whole bookstore, but that had to wait. Feeding the princess had priority.

    In the backroom, Sylvie reached out to pick Hesliheidr. Ragnar drew a huge breath, tensing for a moment. Should he trust this human?

    "I have a way with children, sir. I can hold your lovely daughter while you prepare her bottle."

    Bottle? Did humans feed their young with bottles? Ragnar surrendered the princess to the human clerk and removed his human backpack. Opening the zipper, he took a goatskin out and set the closed pack aside.

    "I''m ready. You can give her back."

    Sylvie''s eyes were wider than normal. Ragnar took Hesliheidr and eased the hollow horn at the tip of the goatskin into the girl''s mouth. The princess took and greedily sucked the milk.

    "I must confess, I''ve never seen someone feed a baby like that. Feels like we are in a renaissance fair," she said to make small talk.

    "Back home, all babies are fed like this," Ragnar answered. He regretted giving out this piece of information right away, because of the inevitable follow-up.

    "What''s the baby''s name, sir?"

    "She''s called Cless," he lied, using a female name he read on one of the book spines.

    "That''s a very English name," Sylvie chirped with a smile. "Are you Nordic by any chance? You have this strong Norwegian vibe."

    Ragnar smiled back. "Yes, I come from a cold realm far to the north," He said with pride, forgetting to mimic the local accent.

    "Iceland maybe?" Sylvie tilted her head as she kept the smile firm. "Your fake British accent broke," she added with an innocent giggle.

    "Erm..." Ragnar found himself a bit flustered.

    "There''s not much world North of here," she pointed out.

    "Of course," Ragnar replied noncommittally. The Lorekeeper was embarrassed at his lack of knowledge of Midgard.

    "Iceland, it is. Welcome to England sir..." She reached out and left her hand hanging.

    "Ragnar," he held her hand and shook.

    "She has the most beautiful eyes," Sylvie cooed looking at Hesliheidr.

    Ragnar released her hand and checked. The princess wasn''t feeding anymore, just playing with her gums on the goatskin horn. He replaced the cork and gave the girl to the clerk. With his hands free, he returned the goatskin to the backpack.

    Sylvie held Hesliheidr against her shoulder and patted her back until the princess burped. "Atta girl!" She cooed.

    He stood up and slung the backpack. Picking the precious princess, he spoke to the clerk. "The guidebook?"

    Sylvie led him back to the main room, "Sure. This way."

    She took a book as they went to the front desk. Sylvie ducked under the counter and put the book on it. "This is the best guidebook for Hereford and outskirts, sir. It''ll be two pounds."

    "Whoa!" Ragnar gasped. "Two pounds, right! Erm..."

    She extended her hands for the baby, "I can hold her while you get the money from your backpack, sir."

    "Sure..." Ragnar was flustered. Two pounds? He might not have that much money. With the carelessness the humans treated the books, he wasn''t expecting them to be THAT expensive. But he had to respect it. Books were precious. He fiddled with the backpack zippers and pouches until he found a gold coin. "Here. I''m not from your country as you noticed. How much is this coin worth, lady Sylvie?"

    Sylvie stared at the gold coin, froze. "Sir, is that a gold coin?" Her voice broke and her hands trembled.

    Ragnar feared she''d drop the princess. He focused his metal senses on the coin. it wasn''t pure gold but a gold-copper alloy. It was still ninety-one percent gold, though. As he talked to the clerk, the dvergar Lorekeeper was extremely embarrassed.

    "It''s ninety-one percent gold. This is a coin of your country, isn''t it? Look, lady Sylvie, I''m afraid I don''t have enough money to buy your guidebook. I wasn''t expecting it to cost two pounds and I''m afraid I don''t have four hundred of these. Maybe you can just show me the way to an inn?"

    "Ragnar... where are you from? That''s..." still holding the princess in one hand, she used the other to pull a small polished metal slab with a glass pane in the front from her apron''s front pocket. Moving her finger over the glass, it flared to life. So humans had magic! But Ragnar couldn''t feel any mana. Sylvie passed the slab in front of the coin as the image of what the slab''s magical eye was seeing showed on the glass. Then it beeped and some text flared to life under the glass. She frantically slid her finger as more text and images scrolled in the glass.

    "Ragnar! That''s an Edward III quarter noble!" Sylvie''s breath was ragged as if she''d ran a few leagues. "And all the coins up for sale are old and tarnished. Yours seems to be minted just yesterday! I have to ask, sir. Is this a prank? Is that coin counterfeit? Are we in some hidden camera show? Should I be worried?"

    She looked around, searching for something hidden. Hesliheidr decided her royal countenance had been ignored for too long and protested by crying.

    "Lady Sylvie, I can assure you I am no prankster and you are safe with me. I mean you or your shop no harm. I have other coins here with me, both gold and silver. But they can''t add up to two pounds. I''m ashamed to admit I cannot purchase this guidebook."

    She made a stuttered laughter that evolved into cackles and sobs. Biting her lower lip, Sylvie stared at Ragnar''s eyes.

    "You are not from Iceland, Norway, or Sweden. Ragnar, be honest with me. What is the land ''up north'' you hail from? Two pounds? I''m talking about money," she opened a drawer under the counter and took a piece of parchment. "This, Her Majesty''s money. Not the measurement of weight."

    She glanced at the princess and back to Ragnar''s eyes. "Who are you, Ragnar? Should I be afraid of you?"

    Ragnar raised his hand and pressed against his chest. "No, milady. I can assure you I would never hurt a fellow librarian."

    It seemed she believed him as she relaxed her guard. She was still holding the princess, Ragnar worried.

    "Don''t dodge the question. This coin in your hands is worth... at least four hundred banknotes like this one. And this note here, it can buy five guidebooks, Ragnar. Where are you from, to carry such treasures and not know anything about modern money?"

    Ragnar hesitated.

    "Are you running away from something? The authorities? Christ, do you even have a passport?"

    Ragnar placed the coin on the counter. "Take this coin, milady. Hand over her Highness..." He cursed his Freudian slip internally.

    "A PRINCESS?" Sylvie shouted. Suddenly panting, she seemed to be out of breath.

    "Yes, a princess, milady," Ragnar admitted. He gently took Hesliheidr from her arm. "Give me the guidebook and as many of these... banknotes as you think my coin is worth in exchange. I don''t mind if you don''t pay full value. Consider the balance the price for your silence."

    Sylvie shook her head and pushed both coin and book away from her. "Ragnar, I can''t. No. Take your coin and the guidebook. It''s on the house. I don''t want any trouble, I won''t tell anyone I saw you."

    "I can''t take the book for free, milady. It is too precious. I must give you proper compensation. A silver coin then?"

    She whimpered. "This is a second-hand guidebook from six years ago! Seriously, we charge two pounds for it just to fund our charity! The book is worthless, just take it and leave!"

    Ragnar''s face lit up. "A charity! Would you take donations?" he flipped the coin in one hand while holding the princess in the other.

    "No!" She protested. "I mean, yes! But don''t go around donating gold coins!" She paused then added. "By Thor''s beard!"

    Ragnar relaxed and smiled as he recognized the reference.

    Sylvie pushed on, "Norse. Odin, Freya, Valhalla..." As she studied Ragnar''s face, she gasped and stared at the baby. "Good Lord. Who feeds a baby from a goatskin?"

    Hesliheidr squealed and giggled. She liked being the center of attention. Ragnar didn''t answer her.

    "Lady Sylvie, well met. I must go now, to find an inn, and book a room."

    She deadpanned at him. "Hotel, Ragnar. In this century, we call your inns hotels. And you still don''t have any money to pay for the room. Don''t go flashing those gold coins everywhere, you''re going to get mugged!"

    Ragnar sighed. "Can I trust you, lady Sylvie?"

    "Trust is a two-way road, Ragnar. Are you some kind of fugitive? Refugee? You don''t seem like a criminal to me."

    "I never broke the law, milady. And yes, you can consider me and princess... Cless as refugees."

    She bent under the counter and returned with a book. She pointed at a metal contraption on the cover. "Ragnar, what is this object?"

    "Some sort of ranged weapon?" He guessed. "The grip and trigger look like a crossbow''s."

    She sighed again. "Is this the first time you see such a contraption?"

    Ragnar decided to be honest. "Yes."

    "Are you a time traveler? From another world? Where are the cameras?" She continued but it seemed she was in a daze.

    He felt he could trust Sylvie. Midgard had changed a lot from the records he had but the mention she made to the Aesir and Vanir deities showed it was still the same realm. He needed an ally and who better than a fellow librarian?

    "Sylvie, promise me you''ll keep our secret, and I''ll explain everything to you."

 3 - Ragnarok

    Sylvie''s POV

    <hr>

    After locking the front door and placing a closed sign, Sylvie led Ragnar to the back of the bookstore. She had no idea why she was trusting the handsome Nordic stranger so much but there she was. She gave it some thought and decided it was because of the baby. The little girl Cless had a captivating aura. He did call her a princess, didn''t he? He probably meant it.

    Who was this mysterious stranger? Feeding a baby milk from a goatskin, tossing around XIV century coins like they were pocket change, not knowing what a gun was. She found herself enraptured by the mystery if not by the strange man. Her heart pounded, her stomach stirred with butterflies. Was he a time traveler? An elaborate hoax? A hidden camera prank?

    One glance at the iridescent irises of the ''princess'' and all worries melted away from Sylvie''s mind. The devotion Ragnar dedicated to the girl, the way he handled her as if she was his most precious treasure, the pressure of loss she felt from him, he couldn''t be a bad guy.

    "Here we are. Nobody will bother us in this room," Sylvie said. ''And that''s how you end up dead, stupid,'' she mentally chided herself.

    "Hold her Highness for a moment, will ya?" He asked with his natural accent, something between Scottish and the laminal vocalization typical of the Norwegian.

    She took the baby and cooed a giggle out of the little piece of heaven. Sylvie understood by now that Cless wasn''t her true name but she didn''t mind. Those hazel eyes were to die for. She stopped making silly noises and playing with the baby only because Ragnar cleared his throat to get her attention back.

    "Yes?"

    "I''m going to show you something. Do not be afraid, I won''t hurt you or do anything bad. Hum... Maybe I should introduce myself properly."

    He made a strange greeting where he waved a fist and hit his chest as if he was stabbing at his own heart, ending with a bow.

    "Well met, Sylvie the bookstore librarian. My name is Ragnar Haedmisdja, a metalsmith by craft and librarian by passion. For five hundred years, I was the head librarian at the court of King Hreidmar, rightful ruler of the golden city of Nidavellir in the realm of Myrheim. My lord tasked me with the princess'' safety and sent me here to Midgard. As you probably already guessed, I am not human. I''m one of the dvergar, the people of the deep. Dwarves, I think you call us in your tongue."

    It took Sylvie two minutes to notice his jaw was slacking, her mouth open. "No shit."

    "No excrement involved at all," he parroted with a straight face.

    Sylvie shook her head, her hair brushing against Cless. The girl grabbed it and tugged a bunch to put it in her mouth.

    "I mean, is this for real? You are too tall for a dwarf!" She exclaimed.

    "I give you my word, milady. I''m no liar."

    "That''s what a liar would say!"

    "That''s also correct," he said with a slight chuckle. "I can shapeshift into my normal form if you want. Just don''t be scared. But what did you mean I''m too tall for a dwarf? I''m one head and a half shorter than my normal height!"

    Sylvie tittered a giggle. "Aren''t dwarves four feet tall?"

    "I think those are gnomes. Crafty and mischievous little fellas."

    "Okay, show me. Do your transformation."

    Ragnar nodded. he closed his eyes and his skin started to darken until it was charcoal black. His shoulders broadened and as he said, he grew a head and a half taller while his legs shortened by a bit. His clothes were replaced by a chainmail hauberk underneath a gilded tabard and an equally gilded cloak.

    "This is my true form," he said, his voice deeper by two octaves. It shook the building as he spoke.

    "Daaaamn." Sylvie cursed and then looked at the baby. "Is she..."

    "Also a dwarf. Although her Highness doesn''t know how to transform yet and is under a spell from his father."

    She found herself shivering. The ''dwarf'' was massive. He could very well weigh six hundred pounds. She took a few deep breaths, praising the Lord she was still alive.

    "What brings the master dwarf here, to Hereford of all places?"

    "My liege tasked me with the princess'' protection. We..."

    Something gave Sylvie goosebumps. All her hair stood up.

    "What''s that?"

    Ragnar looked up and to the side. "So it begins. Yggdrasil is dead. Ragnarok is upon us."

    Two tears streaked down Sylvie''s cheeks. She had no idea why she was crying but she was. "Ragnarok? As in ''the end of the world'', doomsday, the apocalypse?"

    "Allow me. You are not used to this level of magic. Now that Yggdrasil is dead, the flow of magical energy is all messed up."

    The earth shook. Ragnar knelt as he chanted and drew glowing runes on the floor. Sylvie''s brain was short-circuiting.

    A golden glow encompassed the room and went through the walls. "I''ve warded the whole bookstore. You should calm down now."

    Yes, the pressure she was feeling at the back of her neck vanished. Her goosebumps too.

    "What happens now?"

    "My people should be fighting against Thrym and Utgard-Loki''s hordes as we speak," he said with a pained voice. "The halls of Valhalla will finally fulfill their purpose. The Einherjar will fight the hosts of Hel. Fenrir will escape and kill the All-Father. Thor shall come to Midgard and slay Jormungadr. It will all transpire as the Eddas prophesized."

    "The dwarves all die today," He added with a sadness only a drunk could evoke. "Such is our fate."

    "What about you? What about Cless?"Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Ragnar shook his head as he gazed tenderly at the baby girl, "No. Not her. Her fate was cut off from our own kind. She will survive and one day, inherit Myrkheim and rebuild Nidavellir."

    Sylvie set her foot down. "Don''t evade the question! What about you?"

    "I don''t know. That''s why I trusted you so, Sylvie. I''ll protect princess Hesliheidr with my whole being unto my dying breath. But I don''t know if my fate was also severed from my kind or not."

    The ground shook. Outside, she could hear cars crashing into each other.

    "Ragnarok," Sylvie mused with dread.

    "Ragnarok," Ragnar repeated with obstinate fatalism.

    Thunder rang in the sky. Sylvie could hear a heavy deluge washing over everything. ''At least we are not going to burn'', she thought.

    "Are you dumping a baby on me?" She asked.

    "No. I''m not dead yet. I sense some beasts nearby. What do you want to do, librarian Sylvie? Don''t you have people you ought to protect? I can lend you my strength."

    It hit her like a cartoon anvil. Her family!

    Ragnar transformed back into his human form. "Give me the princess back and lead the way."

    They rushed to the front of the shop. The toy shop across the street was demolished by what seemed like a meteor. Steam rose from the crater. A veritable river formed in Union street. The heavy rains made it almost impossible to go out. The sky was covered with purple clouds illuminated by frequent bolts of lightning that jumped from cloud to cloud. It was as dark as night but the public illumination failed.

    She looked up and noticed that the emergency lights were on. The public utilities had failed.

    Ragnar chanted again and drew runes on her back. She felt a blue glow around her. "This will keep us from getting wet. Lead the way, Sylvie. Let''s find your family."

    She opened the door and to her surprise, the rain didn''t enter the bookstore. The drops of water hit some invisible wall and seeped down to join the flash flood that was running down the street. A dozen car horns honked at the same time as the bugles heralding the end of the world. Maybe they were.

    "This way!" She took a deep breath and braved the flooded street. She didn''t feel wet and the ankle-high water wasn''t dragging her.

    Without looking behind her, she ran home. Her house was three blocks away, on the corner of Vaughan and Symonds. She ran a hundred yards to the avenue and found that the A438 Bath Street was blocked by a massive car pile-up. People trapped in the wreckage cried for help as the water level rose.

    "Can you help them?" She asked Ragnar. "Do some magic, dunno?"

    ** SCREECH **

    She looked around. The screech seemed to come from two-legged frogs with four arms that stood ten feet tall on the other side of the road.

    "{Shape and reforge, o creation of mortal hands. Heed my command and strike true at my enemies'' hearts!}" He chanted instead of answering. She didn''t understand a word of what he said in his guttural tongue.

    Once more Sylvie felt the goosebumps. This time coming from Ragnar. His hands glowed the color of rust and so did the runes he drew on the air, this time. The cars melted and the metal oozed and took the shape of dozens of spears. With a heave of his hand, the spears flew and impaled the frog monsters. Ragnar panted.

    Sylvie ignored the people formerly trapped in the crash. "Are you okay?" She asked.

    "The mana here is too low. The metal you use too impure, too mundane. Let''s go. These ''froskakrisly'', or frog demons won''t be killed by mere steel but we bought us an hour or two. Move!"

    They crossed the road and Sylvie saw that Ragnar not only pinned the frogs but also released the trapped people. The two and baby walked past the courthouse and she looked at the police station on the other side. Another group of the ''froskakrisly'' was trying to invade the station while the cops lay down gunfire on them. But as Ragnar said, they might be just kids pelting an adult with water balloons. Even when shot in the middle of the eyes, the frog monsters were taken out of combat by a few minutes before regenerating and resuming their assault. Their powerful legs could easily jump over the makeshift barricade of police cruisers.

    Until one of them got angry at being shot and upturned a car, tossing it a dozen yards away on a group of cops.

    "Oh, I see. Combustion weapons, that''s what you showed me in that book," Ragnar commented. "But without imbuing the projectiles with magic, it is futile. These warriors are doomed."

    "Can you help?" Sylvie asked. She knew a few of those officers.

    "The three spells I used so far drained me already. Unexpectedly, I must add. I''m afraid you have to choose, Sylvie."

    Saving the cops or saving her family. And if these monsters were everywhere... Another minor earthquake shook her from her stupor.

    "We gotta hurry! This way," she pointed at the corner of Bath and Kyrle.

    They walked down the side road for a hundred yards and finally reached Vaughan street. The drainage was working so the street wasn''t flooded. Desperate, Sylvie started to run. She could hear Ragnar right behind her and trusted the mysterious stranger to stay with her.

    ** SCREECH **

    She started and frantically looked around, searching for more frog-demons. When she looked south-east, what she found was a huge, massive, snake body looming in the sky, partially covered by the fog. It towered over the horizon and above as if it was miles thick. Hundreds of thunderbolts rained on the massive serpent, illuminating the whole length of the titanic serpentine coil.

    "What''s that?" She pointed and kept moving.

    "That, my fellow librarian, is Jormungandr''s body. Just one of its many coils. It does go around the world, after all. Thor is already fighting it!" He exclaimed with a bit of cheer.

    Gak! A creature twenty-five thousand miles long? "How did it hide this long?" she muttered in disbelief.

    "Look out!" Ragnar shouted.

    Flaming meteors rained down everywhere. Everywhere. As dozens of them crashed all over the city, it filled the sky with the sweet scent of... burning firewood?!?!?

    As if reading her mind, the dwarf exile answered, "Yggdrasil''s dead limbs and leaves are raining all over the nine realms. I pity the place where the trunk fell but it should''ve been in the lower realms.

    The implications that the meteor rain was caused by a dead tree''s falling branches put things on a scale Sylvie''s modern mind couldn''t grasp. The earth shook again.

    ** SCREECH ** Jormungandr screeched again. Where was the head of the beast? Over Singapore?

    The earthquake this time was bigger. She looked east and saw the massive serpent body crashing down, probably smothering Ireland or something like that. She slapped herself for the dark thought.

    "Here! Here is my home! Mom! Kelly! Jenny! Cristal!" She said as she jumped over the picket fence and made her way to the front door.

    "Sylvie!" Jenny''s squeal came from the front door.

    As Sylvie reached the door, she heard the unmistakeable croak of the frog-demons. She turned around with her heart in her throat and saw a group of five on the street, glowering at them menacingly.

    "Lady Sylvie," Ragnar said solemnly. "Promise me to take care of the princess as if she was your own daughter."

    He didn''t wait for an answer and placed the baby in her arms. He took his backpack out and drew a massive ax that had no right to be inside the cloth sack.

    "Ragnar!" Sylvie shouted. "You HAVE to come back!"

    "If such is my fate, milady. Keep the princess safe. I leave the hope of our people in your hands. I don''t intend to die here but if I do, it shall be a warrior''s death."

    Clutching the baby princess, Sylvie cried. "If you don''t come back, I''m going to kill you!"

    "So shall it be," he said and chanted in his guttural language. "{Blood and Ruin, bane for the enemies of the deep. By my pledge to Myrkheim''s sacred grounds, let the bugles of war blow. Let my steel be the last my foes ever see.}"

    The ax head glowed red. The frog-demons hissed as they stared at the dwarven weapon. Ragnar grew and assumed his normal form again. With a mighty bellow, he charged at the monsters. Sylvie kept her eyes peeled on the fight. Ragnar whirled and spun his ax, cleaving the humanoid frogs'' flimsy limbs. Their clawed rakes didn''t cut through dwarven steel and they only rattled the chain links as the sharp claws raked the dwarven armor.

    "Who''s he, sis?" Jenny asked. "Whose baby is that?"

    "He''s our benefactor. A traveler I met at the bookshop."

    "He''s black," Jenny commented.

    "That''s racist!" Sylvie chided.

    "Sorry, sis!" The young girl quickly corrected herself.

    "Say it to the dwarf that''s fighting to keep us safe. Where is everyone?"

    "In here!" Her mother''s voice came from the kitchen. "We''re barricading the back door."

    She doubted any kind of barricade they created could stop those things. But Ragnar quickly dispatched the frogs. He shoved his hand into their chests and... ripped off their hearts?

    "Bleh!" Jenny threw up. Sylvie almost went down the same path.

    The dwarf washed the things he took from the frog demons in the rainwater running down the gutter.

    "Magic Cores! What a stroke of good luck! With a few of these, I can restore my magic," Ragnar said as he came back.

    Cless squealed as Ragnar came closer.

    "Come inside! Let me introduce you to our family!"

 4 - A Lovely Woodland Cottage

    The next morning came but the sky was still overcast. The heavy rains didn''t stop.

    "Pack everything essential. Don''t overburden yourselves," back in his human disguise, Ragnar ordered the women around.

    The battle between Thor and Jormungandr grew heated and the land tremors more intense. The dvergar Lorekeeper wasn''t trusting that Hereford''s hundred-sixty feet above sea level would keep the human city dry. They needed to get to high ground faster.

    "We need to go hiking. If we aren''t a hundred feet higher than we are now by nightfall, we are all doomed!" He shouted.

    In the living room, Sylvie was tying a few trunks together to make a gigantic backpack.

    "Are you sure you can carry this?"

    The Lorekeeper scoffed, "In my normal shape? Easily. I''ve used the Magic Cores of the monsters, I''m full of mana again."

    Half an hour later, they left Sylvie''s house. Ragnar in all his dvergar glory, Sylvie with the princess strapped in some sort of baby carrier that kept her close to the chest, the triplets, and their mother. all of them had a water protection spell on them. On the front lawn, he hefted the massive pack by the ropes and passed his arms around the straps. After a few tugs and jumps, he was certain that Sylvie''s knots would hold their luggage. He grabbed his battle-ax and the group started to walk under the heavy and cold rain.

    Jormungandr''s tail was dominating the sky to the east and south. Their plan was to walk northeast along the A438 and hike eleven miles to Blakemere today. After camping in the parish, they would go to Moccas Park and settle on the highest spot around there, at comfortable nine hundred feet of altitude.

    "You''re tall for a dwarf!" Crystal said with admiration.

    "Thanks."

    "I thought that dwarves..." Kelly mused but was cut off by her older sister.

    Sylvie silenced her little sister with a glare, "Kelly, the short stout folk are gnomes. Don''t bother Mr. Ragnar."

    Ragnar chuckled spiritedly. Dvergar''s ratio of male to female is around four hundred to one. Going on a journey with this many females was refreshing for the old Lorekeeper. He went ahead to remove the dead bodies from the girls'' path. A lot of humans died. The odds that the women knew these people were great, this town was not that big. A few dead froskakrisly too. He removed their cores before tossing the bodies over fences and inside buildings.

    The shops were raided, especially grocery stores and supermarkets. Sylvie made a point of stopping at a drugstore and loot some off-the-counter medicine. Clever girl. Stocking up on medicine would surely pay off. They did find some "energy-bars", which was just a fancy name for high-calorie processed food and not really energy in the way Ragnar thought of.

    When he found more dead froskakrisly, he was sure of it. That meant a few humans awakened magical powers. Without imbuing a weapon, killing these was impossible. Good for Midgard. They needed to learn how to defend themselves fast if they wanted to survive. And get to higher ground, because Jormungandr would flood the lowlands.

    The massive serpent lived in Midgard but not in the physical realm. That''s why these humans never saw the beast. But now it was slowly phasing into this dimension as Thor wounded it more and more. Upon its death, the twenty-five thousand miles long serpent will crash into the physical ocean and cause two things. One, displace water and flood the lowlands. Two, poison the oceans with its blood. It will take thousands of years to cleanse the water enough for life to return. Humanity needed to survive that long.

    Princess Hesliheidr needed to survive that long. All else was secondary.

    They left the city and started to hike along the highway. Ragnar had twelve cores, a fortune considering the mana levels in Midgard. Rising, truly, but still abysmal. The way was fortunately free of other humans. There was no reason to linger around.

    Six miles and as many hours out of the city, they reached the side road that would take them to bridge Sollers. The nearby river Wye, however, decided against that. The day of heavy rains everywhere caused the river to flood and destroy the bridge.

    Sandra, Sylvie''s other, pointed back, "There''s a church here. we could camp and find another way to cross the river tomorrow."

    "No. Too close to the river," Sylvie said. "A flash flood could wash us away in our sleep."

    "Let''s go there to eat lunch, at least. Lord Ragnar?"

    "Agreed. Let''s rest and plan our next move. Crossing over is impossible. We need to find another spot."

    The church was empty and locked. To Ragnar, the flimsy wooden door needed just a little nudge to break open. They settled on the pews and Sylvie spread a map of Hereford on the altar after praying for forgiveness.

    "There''s Garnon''s Hill two miles from here," She suggested to the dvergar. "It sits two hundred feet lower than our intended destination, but as you said, there''s no way we''re crossing the Wye."

    "Can we make it there today?" Ragnar was skeptical of these women''s endurance. They walked too slow and complained all the time. A troop of dwarven warriors would''ve run twenty laps around the same distance in the time they took to reach this church.

    "Sure. It''s only two miles. A third of what we walked already."

    "But it is uphill."

    "There''s a camping cabin up there. I bet sleeping on clean linens will motivate everyone," Sylvie commented.

    "Then there''s our destination for today. I don''t think two hundred feet will make any difference," Ragnar commented.

    it would be better to go the distance and climb some taller hills, but that''s what they had to work with. Even the dvergar would be troubled to cross the river, even alone. He couldn''t risk the princess''s life. All else was secondary.

    They ate and rested for half an hour. The girls complained a bit but he was adamant they should loot the church. They found some cushions and blankets in a storeroom. Ragnar was sure the building would be washed away by the river if the rains continued for a few more days and with Thor''s ongoing battle with Jormungandr, that was almost granted. The titanic struggle between the thunder god and his nephew was supposed to destroy Midgard, after all.

    One mile on the highway and they turned right on a side road, past a smaller roadside chapel, and into a narrow path that was still covered in "asphalt". Grasslands and a few sparse birch trees dotted the rural landscape. Sylvie guided them through the bifurcations. At the foot of the hill, they found a computer shop.

    "I bet they have a generator. We should come back to check tomorrow," Sylvie commented.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    As they climbed the packed dirt road uphill, Ragnar kept an eye out for any monsters. Now that whatever kept mana out of Midgard was breached, they would start to spawn. He would have to train these women in spellcasting, hand-to-hand combat, and imbuing weapons if they would be more than a drain on their resources.

    He wasn''t looking down on these humans. They helped him and Sylvie trusted him right away. He half-expected her to scream and do something stupid when he revealed his true form. Now he can see how silly he was to underestimate these humans.

    Yes, that''s what he would do. Turn these women into princess Hesliheidr''s honor guard. The legacy of an entire realm rested on the young dvergar''s survival.

    Halfway to the cabin, they found an abandoned vehicle. Steam rose from the front. Sylvie approached it and looked through the glass windows.

    "This car was recently abandoned. There''s nobody around so the driver and passengers should be somewhere around here."

    "Milady, do you think they went to the same cabin as us?" Ragnar asked.

    "Probably, yes. The cabin is somewhat famous around here. They were featured in a big newspaper last year, and it boomed in popularity," she answered. "It was a hunting lodge in the first half of the last century, and then an old widow lived there until she died. A rental company bought it and put it up for rent after renovating it."

    Ragnar was worried. They needed the cabin, and they would have it even if he had to evict the humans that got there before them. The nine realms were a harsh place, especially during a crisis. And there will never be a bigger crisis than Ragnarok. He glanced over his shoulder. The titanic serpent was still under constant fire by lightning. Somewhere in this world, Thor was surely hitting it on the head with Mjollnir.

    The rain and constant earthquakes were but a byproduct of their struggle.

    "Get in the vehicle. I''ll need to lift the spell keeping the rain off of you," Ragnar ordered.

    "What are you going to do?"

    "Scout."

    The humans boarded the vehicle with the princess. Ragnar removed the tied up luggage from his back. Although he could hike carrying it forever, he would prefer a bit more mobility during combat. As he turned to go, Sylvie called him back.

    "Ragnar!"

    She showed him a glass tube with a spherical bulb. The bulb had an opening. By the way, Sylvie was distressed, it was bad news.

    "What''s wrong. What is that thing?"

    She tossed it out of the vehicle along with a few bags made of... what''s the name? Plastic.

    "That''s a meth pipe, Ragnar. It is bad, very bad. It means the people that rode in this vehicle used it."

    "What is ''meth''?"

    She thought for a while before answering, "A poison people use to hallucinate. We call it a ''drug''."

    "And drugs are bad, I presume."

    "You bet. Whoever came here is not a good person."

    Ragnar nodded. "I''ll be careful," he said trying to keep his expression neutral.

    He was already intending on forcefully evicting whoever was up in the cabin. Now that they were drug users? It would be easier to explain to them. Ragnar was sure the human women would frown upon killing others. Their society was too peaceful. They weren''t prepared for a total collapse like this one.

    The Lorekeeper placed concealment wards around the ''car''. It would cloak the vehicle against those that couldn''t sense magic. Monsters like the froskakrisly wouldn''t be fooled but he sensed no miasma around the hill. Monsters depended on miasma to spawn and live. Miasma was produced naturally in the Lower Realms and artificially whenever great suffering took place. That was one of the reasons why the town wasn''t safe anymore. With that many human deaths and the survivors'' anguish, dozens of monsters would spawn there.

    The other reason was that in a few hours or days, the entire town will be underwater. Then this whole valley would be too salty to grow any plants for centuries.

    With the vehicle hidden by his ward, Ragnar used body enhancement magic on himself. Make him faster, stronger, sturdier. The humans'' guns might have no effect on the froskakrisly but Ragnar was as much flesh and blood as the inhabitants of Midgard. He had no doubt a well-placed shot from these guns would kill him.

    With stealth that wasn''t compatible with his massive body, the dvergar made his way up. Once he came around a bend in the road, he saw the cottage. It was a two-story building made of glazed bricks with a tall double chimney. One of the pipes was letting smoke out. As he approached, he saw what Sylvie meant.

    The cottage was well-decorated, with a stone table and an open-air bath. It had an entrance to the lower floor downhill and another access to the upper floor uphill.

    He heard voices inside. The occupants were talking nonsense and he picked up the scent of the drugs. As he approached the window to look inside, one of the occupants leaned to spit at the exact moment Ragnar was underneath.

    "What the fu--"

    Ragnar grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and tossed him downhill into a copse of trees. He heard the sound of bones breaking and a grunt.

    "Jack, what is wrong, dude?"

    Another human approached the window. This one reeked of drugs. He looked outside but didn''t see Ragnar. The dvergar was glued to the wall to the side, behind the wooden shutter.

    "Fuck! Somehow Jack ended up in the trees below!" The man shouted inside. He probably saw his companion crumpled against the trees.

    He tried to count the voices. Three humans, one male, and two females. He went around the cottage corner and crouched. He kept one eye around the corner to see.

    The door opened and one female run ahead calling Jack''s name. The male came after her with a gun in his hand. The other female stood by the door with a bigger gun. None of them looked his way.

    The couple that went downhill reached Jack''s body. Ragnar held his battle-ax on the left hand and readied a throwing dagger on his right. He took his time to aim at the woman with the bigger gun''s temple.

    "Clari! Jack is dead," the woman downhill shouted. The distress in her voice was easy to understand. She was probably Jack''s lover.

    "Damn!" Clari, the one still by the cottage door, cursed. "How did he end up there?" She asked nobody.

    Ragnar tossed his dagger. It lodged itself in the woman''s ear and she fell down immediately. The ''gun'' rocked with the sound of thunder repeated times as she fell down. Ragnar could see clumps of dirt spraying around the business end of the gun.

    That alerted the two humans downhill.

    "What the fuck is that!" the male shouted in surprise, pointing at Ragnar. From where they stood, he wasn''t hidden.

    Ragnar''s answer was to toss the battle-ax at him. The man dodged and the ax split a tree in half. The human pointed his gun at Ragnar and fired. The dvergar tried to dodge but the gun''s projectile was way faster than a crossbow bolt. he felt a sting on his left arm as he rolled sideways. Back on his feet, Ragnar ran up the hill and around the cottage.

    "The monster killed Clari, Roger!"

    "Let go, Tara! I can''t shoot the damn ogre with you clinging to my arm!"

    "Why are you so sure it is an ogre?" The female asked.

    Ragnar assessed his wound. There was a piece of metal lodged inside his arm. He focused and chanted a basic metal manipulation spell. A piece of lead popped out of the wound and Ragnar examined it. The projectile was roughly conical and had a copper jacket around a lead core. It went right through one of his maille rings, busting it.

    Guns were dangerous. Ragnar took two daggers from his belt and planned his attack. He had to use an illusion spell to displace his image. Then he would go around the cottage and toss a dagger to distract the human. The human proved to have good marksmanship with that gun. He would fire at Ragnar''s displaced image and then he would be close enough to finish him with the second dagger.

    The second female didn''t seem like a threat to him.

    He rehearsed his plan twice in his head. With everything set, he cast his illusion and got out of his cover around the cottage. He threw the first dagger and the man dodged. The human shot at his illusion and the projectile went straight through the head. Ragnar smirked and tossed the second dagger. It struck the man right in the eye. That''s when the second female did what Ragnar would later learn as "spray and pray". She shot wildly, missing his illusion but striking the dvergar in the knee.

    Ragnar tumbled and rolled down the hill. He had the presence of mind to aim at the screaming woman. His body slammed her and the two went straight into a tree. The female human was crushed between the massive dvergar and the evergreen.

    Ragnar groaned and grunted as he rolled back and away from the crash site. Once more he used his metal magic to remove the projectile from his knee and checked the damage. Even with his resilience and recovery ability, it would take a few months to fully heal.

    Damned guns. If the weapon was imbued with magic, it would''ve severed his leg.

    He limped to the tree his battle-ax split. He took the wet handle and shook the water away from his weapon. Using the ax as a makeshift crutch, he collected the humans'' weapons and searched the bodies for any interesting objects. Then he took the bodies and tossed them further down the hill. The ceaseless rain would take care of cleaning the blood. He cut down the damaged trees as well. No need to have them ruining the scenic view from the cottage.

    He circulated some mana around his body, feeling his wounds. Although the shot broke his patella, the bone would mend and restore with the proper mana circulation. Another important reason to teach magic to the human women. So they could heal themselves. He scratched his beard. Human ingenuity was amazing. They achieved this much without magic. He wondered what marvels they would obtain with it.

    Little the dvergar knew that regarding humans, less was more. The midgard after Ragnarok never rediscovered the technology they once had.

 5 - A World Dies

    The young girls and Sylvie ran under the rain without the protection of Ragnar''s magic.

    "Ragnar! Where are you!" Sylvie shouted. "We heard gunshots!"

    "Over here, lass! I''m okay!" The dvergar replied, climbing the hill out of the woods. "Get inside, you''re drenched!"

    "Mom is in the car with Cless! Go get her! Dear gracious! You''re wounded!"

    Sylvie tried to approach but Ragnar raised a hand. "Get inside now, you and your sisters! You are going to freeze!"

    Humans were too frail. He could see that the little ones were already shivering. Fortunately, Ragnarok didn''t come in the winter.

    ** SCREECH-ROAR ** ** RUMBLE **

    As if to remind them it was still alive and kicking, Jormungandr caused another earthquake.

    Ragnar almost lost his footing. Using his battle-ax as a crutch, he limped to the car. ¡°Milady, are you okay?¡±

    Pointing at the baby, the woman answered, ¡°Your lady is fine, lord Ragnar! How are mine?¡± Sylvie¡¯s mother answered from the slit in the window.

    Ragnar chuckled and winced at the pain in his shoulder. Those guns were amazing weapons, he thought. ¡°I was asking about you, actually. Lady Jane, may I escort you and my ward to the cottage?¡±

    Using his water-repelling spell again, he took Helisheidr and Jane to the cabin.

    ¡°Is everyone okay?¡± Ragnar asked and scanned the room. There was a funny smell inside but nothing he deemed dangerous. He noticed the faint glow of embers in the fireplace. ¡°Oh, good there¡¯s a hearth. Let¡¯s ignite it. {I invoke the flames of Muspelheim to do my bidding.}.¡± After he finished his chant, the fireplace ignited.

    ¡°Ragnar,¡± Sylvie approached and whispered, ¡°they were using drugs in here. Can¡¯t you feel the smell? I don¡¯t think it will be good for the girls to stay here even though it¡¯s raining a deluge outside.¡±

    ¡°Worry not, Sylvie. We dvergar burn tons of coal in our forges deep underground,¡± he boasted with pride. ¡°We¡¯d be dead if we couldn¡¯t keep our air fresh. {Oh Sylph, ruler of air and wind, I beseech you to cleanse this house.}¡± Ragnar chanted as he waved his hands around, drawing runes in the air.

    Dvergar had affinities with darkness, earth, and fire. Those kinds of magic came easily for them. Light, water, and wind, not so much. That¡¯s why he could command flames but for air magic, he had to plead.

    The funny smell vanished. The invisible wind spirit Ragnar conjured also tossed some dirt and debris outside, including the white crystal stones the previous occupants were consuming. After the spell ended, a drained Ragnar unceremoniously sat on the floor. He was afraid to break the couch.

    ¡°You¡¯re wounded! I think I saw a first-aid kit in the car,¡± Sylvie offered. ¡°Let me fetch it for you.¡±

    ¡°No! Don¡¯t go out in this rain. Sit by the hearth and warm yourself. See if your sisters are fine. This is but a flesh wound. In a couple days I¡¯ll be as good as new,¡± he lied.

    Ragnar examined his knee. The lead projectile went through and through but it wasn¡¯t bleeding anymore. He would need to use another Core to heal himself, but he suspected these chunks of monster-borne crystallized mana wouldn¡¯t be hard to come by in the following days. With the amount of magic being released in Midgard, this Realm would soon rekindle the mana pathways where Yggdrasil¡¯s roots thread, or lay lines as some call them. When that happens monsters will spawn left and right. Ragnarok created too much miasma, caused too much suffering in this world.

    Sylvie shook her head and bit her lip. ¡°You used to be an adventurer, but then you took an arrow to the knee. Fine, have it your way, master Lorekeper.¡±

    The triplet girls fell asleep next to the hearth. Jane brought Helisheidr to change her underclothes and drink some goat milk. All was well, they just needed to endure the last days of Ragnarok and hope the water level didn¡¯t rise so much it would submerge the cottage. They were a good way uphill but there was another fifty to one hundred feet to climb if push came to shove.

    The druggie quartet came prepared. The pantry had lots of canned food and some perishables in the now-defunct fridge that didn''t smell too bad. Jane and Sylvie made everyone eat extra from the soon-to-be-spoiled food, leaving the preserved ones for later. Ragnar knew he would have to go hunting or foraging soon but he needed to heal his knee. Despite his bravado, it was a serious injury. He only remained functional after the combat because his body strengthening magic was still in place. He wanted to keep some of them but he had to use the Cores¡¯ energy to heal himself.

    Like that, they spent three days in the cottage. The rain didn¡¯t relent for a single minute. The titanic battle between the thunder God and Loki''s monstrous progeny reached a lull, but Ragnar feared it was just the calm before the storm.

    <hr>

    ¡°Sylvie, I need to kill one of these farm animals,¡± Ragnar said. ¡°We need food, and I can make use of its leather and bones. The world you knew is over. We¡¯ll need weapons and food if we want to survive,¡± Ragnar explained his motivation. He needed to make sure Sylvie was up to the task of surviving in post-Ragnarok Midgard. The world was about to become harsh, brutal, and one would find no room to be queasy regarding a family¡¯s survival. Kill when you must, flee if you can, fight if no other choice remains. They were females and more than half their group were defenseless children.

    The oceans had already covered the lowlands. The Wye flooded and it was slowly claiming Hereford. Farm animals fled the water and naturally sought higher ground. That brought a few cows, sheep, chickens, pigs, and goats to the hill.

    Not only they needed the food but these many animals would graze and trample the entire hill, removing the protective vegetation cover. Without it, they would be vulnerable to landslides. Culling the larger animals was a necessity.

    ¡°I also need to scout the hill for a source of stone. I need to build a forge and reinforce the hill in some places. I¡¯m afraid the earth is too softened by the rain. We don¡¯t want a landslide.¡±

    He had a third reason to scout the hill, check if any monsters had spawned nearby. Especially down the slope, he threw the four bodies.

    ¡°We need a little more meat in our diets. I know you don¡¯t like to eat meat, but the alternatives you talked to me about are no longer accessible.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Sylvie relented with a sigh. ¡°Just take care, okay? You don¡¯t want to leave your princess alone.¡±

    ¡°She has your family, Sylvie. I¡¯ll be eternally grateful for how much you helped me take care of her. I¡¯m going now.¡±

    He was a lord, a dvergar noble. That was worth crap now that Yggdrasil was dead and the Nine Realms as he knew would soon die. Ragnar couldn¡¯t explain but he saw in Sylvie a kindred spirit. He thought of her as his equal, a librarian even though he now knew her job was just to sell books.

    He checked the hill for danger, going down the slope to give the four humans a proper burial. That would keep the corpses from rotting further and generating more miasma. After he used an Earth spell to purify the soil and further reduce the miasma in the region, he went around the hill checking for herbs and any other issues. He found no ready source of stone, but three places where the soil needed shoring otherwise it would slide soon.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    He couldn¡¯t even call that a hunt. The cow died with a dagger in its head. Ragnar lifted the carcass and carefully brought it back to the cottage. There he skinned and dressed the carcass, preparing the leather for tanning and cutting the chunks of meat.

    During dinner, he made a big announcement.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to teach you magic,¡± he said and was drowned by the squealing of the triplets. They were the most interested in his magic. After the excitement died down a little, he explained. ¡°When I left to get the cow earlier, I found two monsters. Wargs, a kind of giant wolf. That¡¯s bad. They are strong and if they are around, we can expect more monsters. You need to defend themselves.¡±

    The prophecy foretold that no dvergar would survive Ragnarok. Princess Helisheidr was the only one assured to be spared that fate. Ragnar didn¡¯t know if by coming to Midgard with her he was also severed from the fate of his kin but he wouldn¡¯t bet the survival of the ¡°jewels of Myrkheim¡± on it. He needed to train these women so not only they could survive, but also care for the little princess in case he died.

    The next day, he dragged the car up into the parking lot next to the cottage. That vehicle was a bounty of metal and would serve him well. He also cut down some trees to turn into charcoal later. Now he only needed a source of stone.

    For a dvergar, if there¡¯s ground there¡¯s plenty. Splitting his time between teaching the girls, foraging for food, and tending the livestock, Ragnar spent two weeks mining stone and hunting monsters on the other side of the hill. With the dvergar¡¯s magic, prowess, and affinities, he reinforced the cottage and built an enclosed stone bark for the livestock. They needed the animals as much as the critters needed them.

    He also built a smithy next to the cottage. Using magic to dry the wood and make charcoal, he smelted the car and forged weapons for them. Lightweight swords, shields, and some pieces of armor for the women like vambraces, breastplates, and greaves, among others.

    A month went by during which the world serpent phased more and more into the real world. Thor was winning, but at the cost of his life. The constant rumble of thunder and the tremors along with the ceaseless rain drenched everyone''s mood.

    <hr>

    ¡°Four main factors for successful spellcasting exist. The first three are external, and they are a clear image, proper incantation, and practice,¡± he lectured. ¡°You must know exactly what you want to achieve and how you want to achieve. You also need to believe with your whole being that was possible, even if you are attempting to do something that defies logic. This is the clear image. You might think that the image is internal as it happens in your head, but not to the magic.

    ¡°Magic has laws, and the most important one is the law of sympathy. Alike things beget alike things. If I want to bring forth fire, I need to bring into my words and gestures elements that resonate with fire. The chants I know evoke Muspelheim, the land of fire giants led by Surtr. The gestures and runes are important as well, ¡°he moved his hands making some signs, and drew a glowing rune in the air. ¡°These hand signs and rune represent fire. When I combine them with the chant I use on the hearth, fire comes up. You can also use components that fire likes. Sulfur, coal, a burning ember. These sympathetic elements are what we call proper incantation.

    ¡°Finally, practice makes perfect. As you repeat the same spell over and over, you¡¯ll gain mastery and a deep understanding of it and the related components. These are the external factors. Those that don¡¯t relate directly to magic.

    ¡°The fourth factor, however, is the sacrifice. Magic is not without its cost. Great magics demand bigger sacrifices, lesser cantrips demand inconsequential things. The most basic sacrifice a spellcaster can make is its own internal energy. When I cast my spells, I give up some of the energy I collected inside my being. Some call this internal energy your magic pool, or your mana core. That¡¯s good for the mental image but also superstition. You don¡¯t have a ¡®pool¡¯ of magic inside you, neither a true Core like some of the monsters. The energy is inside your whole being.

    ¡°Some other sources of sacrifice exist. You can sacrifice a helpless or voluntary creature to empower your magic. Or something that holds a great power inside it. A monster Core, for example, is crystallized magic, and because of that is a good sacrifice for some low to average complexity spells.¡±

    He made them do some basic magic circulation exercises children used to learn the feel of their internal energy. Jane likened the exercises to some Midgard disciplines, like yoga or tai chi chuan. Maybe they were leftovers of magical traditions that died down as Midgard lost access to magic but remained as mere exercises or martial arts.

    Since humans never felt magic before, these basic exercises took another two weeks to produce any results.

    ¡°Congratulations, young Kelly!¡± The Lorekeeper gushed. ¡°You awakened your magical affinity!¡±

    She was the first of the women to develop the ability to sense their inner magic. True to her name, Kelly awakened an affinity with body strengthening. The young girl was lifting the side of the couch with a single hand.

    ¡°No way!¡± Sylvie gasped. Kelly giggled while her two sisters pouted with envy.

    Ragnar reached and held the furniture. ¡°Now, now, don¡¯t overdo it. You don¡¯t have enough energy to--¡±

    Kelly fainted. Sylvie held her before she could hit her head on the floor.

    ¡°--maintain this for too long,¡± Ragnar sighed. ¡°The lass will be alright after a good night¡¯s sleep. She might have a migraine, though. That ought to teach you young¡®uns a lesson, listen to your elders. I told you to not overdo it!¡±

    ¡°A migraine is not a minor thing!¡± Sylvie protested.

    ¡°Turn ¡®er around, back facing me. Let me check her.¡± He put his hand on the unconscious girl¡¯s chest and checked her energy. ¡°Aye, a migraine might not be minor but it is what happens. It is good she learns this lesson now, instead of when a monster is trying to eat her. Know your limits.¡±

    He glared at the two twins and the girls nodded frantically, ¡°We understood loud and clear, uncle Ragnar!¡± They said in unison.

    ** SCREECH! ** - ** RUMBLE! **

    The whole cottage shook with another earthquake. Dust and debris fell from the roof. The sound of metal striking the stone floor rang from the kitchen.

    ¡°This one was stronger!¡± Sylvie said. ¡°Mom, are you fine in there?¡± She shouted toward the kitchen.

    ¡°Yes! Just some pans that fell from the counter!¡± Jane shouted back.

    ** WHOOSH! **

    The sound of ocean waves crashing came from outside. Rushing to the second floor, they looked out the window. A massive tsunami swept over the flooded lowlands.

    Ragnar quickly plucked two Cores from his pocket. ¡°Accursed Loki-spawn! Jormungandr finally died! Ladies, brace yourselves! It¡¯s going to hit us!¡±

    The children screamed. Helisheidr woke up and cried.

    Sylvie tried to control them. ¡°Everyone, under the first floor beds like we trained! Ragnar!¡±

    ¡°Get Helisheidr with you! I¡¯m going to cast a stone strengthening and water-repelling spell but it will take my entire focus!¡± He barked and started to chant. ¡°{Oh spirits of the Earth and Stone, Heed my call! Strengthen Hearth and Home so my Clan endures the coming storm. Honor our ancient covenant and come to my aid in times of need. Make it so the walls and ground underneath my residence are as sturdy as bedrock! Steadfast like Heimdall¡¯s vigil, Unyielding like Tyr¡¯s Justice, untarnished like Baldr¡¯s Virtue, and as inexorable as Odin¡¯s reach!}¡±

    He focused on the whole hill. As his consciousness became one with the land, he saw the size of the tsunami. He knew then their hopes were crushed. Seven hundred feet wasn¡¯t enough to keep them above water. Not the nine hundred of the nearby hill. The nearby village of Bishopstone was crushed in mere moments. Murky water and giant waves crashed all around his perception. A few hills and knolls were still above water but these too were bound to be washed away.

    Ragnar pushed deep into the ground with the last dregs of magical energy. ¡°{Rise and harden!}¡± He grunted, oblivious to the unintentional innuendo. Desperate, the dvergar saw only one choice. If the women were to survive, he would gladly embrace his species¡¯ fate.

    Princess Helisheidr had to survive, no matter what. His love for Nidavellyr and honor demanded it. The princess was the key to revive the dvergar¡¯s dynasty and their golden city.

    He took a dagger and pressed the tip over his heart. ¡°{Drink my lifeblood, stone, and become one with me! Mimir! Witness me! The last son of Nidavellir dies today! Blood and ruin! May the past perish so the future may bloom!}¡±

    Without a single iota of doubt, he pushed the dagger into his heart. Ragnar, Lorekeeper of king Hreidmar¡¯s court, and last living male dvergar in all the Nine Realms died on the same day Jormungandr killed and poisoned Midgard.

    <hr>

    The death of a world heralded the birth of the next. WIthout Yggdrasil to support the Nine Realms, the dimensions drifted and crashed. Asgard and Vanaheim merged and fused together. In the future, that place would be known as the Celestial Realm. Muspelheim, Helheim, and Niflheim also collapsed onto one another. A land of fire, death, and ice in equal amounts was born. The humans of Midgard called that place the Infernal Realm.

    Finally, Midgard absorbed Alfheim, Myrkheim, and Jotunheim. The world humans called Earth grew in size and importance. The landmasses combined and the world¡¯s geography changed. The next thousands of years would see Giants and elves both light and dark clashing against the human survivors. The technology of civilized Earth was all but forgotten. A world of swords and magic was born.

    Princess Helisheidr survived the cataclysm. She chose to grow and live as a human, hiding her dvergar heritage. Along with her adoptive mother and sisters, she met other survivors, married, and had a daughter that shared the same hazel eyes as her.

    Generation after generation of women inherited Myrheim¡¯s jewels and the fate of a Realm. They taught magic to their fellow humans and the hill where they lived was forevermore known as Witch Hill. Until one day, religious zealots torched the place and killed the Lady of the Hill, one of the heroes that killed the entity known only as ¡°The Devil¡±. Her baby daughter survived the inferno, crawling over burning embers. Fate conspired to let her live, although she was forever disfigured by the ordeal.

    The girl¡¯s name was the same as the alias Ragnar chose for princess Helisheidr centuries ago. Cless would become an adventurer, forming the most peculiar adventurer''s guild. One day in the future she would be known as the ¡°Queen with no Mirrors¡±.

    But this is not her tale [1].

 6 - Seed Core

    Ragnar¡¯s soul floated in the void. He didn¡¯t die in combat so the valkyries had no interest in him. He would be doomed to wander in Helheim but Fate had another plan for him.

    Darkness stretched forever. Any notion of time and space was nonexistent. Yet he endured. Until he saw a serpent coming for him.

    ¡°Ragnar the dvergar!¡± It hissed. ¡°Your fate lies not in the void.¡±

    The soul recognized the serpent. ¡°What business do you have with me, spawn of Jormungandr? Speak your piece, Loki¡¯s grandson!¡±

    ¡°Know that I alone among my siblings escaped my sire¡¯s madness. Though Ragnarok is over, the Nine Realms are still in peril. All of creation will perish if we do nothing but bicker!¡± The serpent scolded the drifting dvergar soul. ¡°I inherited Midgard as others inherited the Realms even though some remain unclaimed. It is my wish to restore the world order and save the Nine Realms.¡±

    Ragnar could sense sincerity and honor in the serpent¡¯s words. ¡°What would you have this dead dvergar do?¡±

    ¡°I offer you a covenant. I require sturdy and wise souls such as yours. What I offer you is the chance to leave this void and go back to the world of the living. I cannot offer you flesh, however. You will forevermore be changed. All I ask is that you live your new life to its fullest.¡±

    The dvergar was skeptical. ¡°And how shall that somehow restore balance to the Nine Realms?¡±

    His suspicion angered the serpent.¡°That¡¯s all I have to say, dvergar. Accept my offer or forever drift in this void. Know that your ward¡¯s bloodline still lives in my realm. You may meet the dvergar princess heir if Fate wills.¡±

    Ragnar knew there was a catch, one that would make him refuse the deal if he knew what it was. Otherwise, the serpent wouldn¡¯t need such honeyed words. Two things were certain, however. This Lord of Midgard needed him. And he would give anything up to meet Helisheidr¡¯s heir.

    ¡°I¡¯ll accept your deal in the spirit it is offered, Lord of Midgard.¡±

    The snake hissed with glee. ¡°Excellent!¡±

    <hr>

    The Lord of Midgard collected many souls lingering around his Realm. Most of them were weak, although he did find one einherjar here and there. They had to be strong and stalwart if they were to fulfill the purpose he had for them. The dvergar showed promise, a rare find. Given the nature of the task he had for him, it was the best.

    As the branches and leaves of Yggdrasil rained upon Midgard like meteors, seeds from the mighty ash tree also fell. These seeds were unlike any other plant seed. These crystalline shards needed a soul to bind onto, and to be planted deep underground to grow. Over centuries, they would sprout branches toward the upper Realms, and roots toward the inferior ones. That way the seeds would circulate both mana and miasma between the Nine Realms, rekindling the lifeforce of these stagnant dimensions.

    His hope was that at least one of these seeds could grow into a new World Tree.

    They would leak mana into Midgard, keeping the magic of the world alive. And also miasma, enticing and drawing monsters to live near their roots. This would have the added benefit of removing the monster population from the surface and trapping them underground.

    These saplings eventually would dig deeper tunnels and breach the dimensions. For the Nine Realms, they were hope for the restoration of the universal order and balance. For the inhabitants of Midgard, a place of wonder and danger. And for the monsters, a prison.

    These tunnels were called Dungeons. The seedlings¡¯ origins remained behind a veil of mystery. They would be known as Dungeon Cores.

    One of these, seeded next to Witch Hill, hosted Ragnar¡¯s soul.

    <hr>

    ¡°Wake up, sleepyhead! Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP!¡± A shrill and sharp voice roused Ragnar from his slumber.

    He tried to open his eyes but he found he had no muscles to move. Yet he could perceive. He was in a dark and cozy place, deep underground. The feeling of hundreds of meters of stone all around him was very comfortable.

    ¡°Hello!¡± The tiny voice spoke again. ¡°CAN YOU HEAR ME?!?!?!?¡±

    He felt something tapping on him. Ragnar mused, how was he supposed to talk if he had not even a mouth?

    As if reading his thoughts, the voice answered, ¡°By the Lord¡¯s grace! All you Cores are SO DUMB! You just need to think very hard and we can talk! With our minds! Or my beautiful mouth and your¡­ not so beautiful mind.¡±

    Ragnar groaned inside. What kind of critter was he stuck with? Worse, he couldn¡¯t move. He loathed but probably communicating with this whiny-voiced pest was the best solution.

    He focused on the source of the voice and perceived a creature with two arms, two legs, one head, and a set of four butterfly wings. A fairy.

    He concentrated on the fay and sent a thought.

    ¡°Why are you here, fairy?¡± Ragnar tried to hide his annoyance. Winged fairies were mischievous creatures up to no good. Dvergar usually banished them on sight.

    ¡°Because it¡¯s my job! You see, the Lord of Midgard hired us fairies to guide you Dungeon Cores. That¡¯s how the humans on the surface call you seedlings, anyway.¡±

    He barely recalled his deal with Jormungadr¡¯s spawn. Something about agreeing to a second life¡­ Wait, ¡°Dungeon Core¡±? Worse, ¡°Seedling?¡±

    Exasperated, Ragnar quickly inquired, ¡°What do you mean by seedling?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes! Your new life is as a Seed of Yggdrasil! You¡¯ll grow big and fruitful, reaching with your branches and roots all the way through the realms! IT WILL BE GLORIOUS!¡± The fairy exulted.

    Ragnar felt a vein popping in the head he no longer had. A TREE? A SAPPING TREE? NO FREAKING WAY!

    He still didn¡¯t want to antagonize the fairy. Ragnar carefully kept his outrage bottled in. ¡°Are you sure you are not mistaken, fairy?¡±

    ¡°No! Not at all. You can check for yourself if you think ¡®Status!¡¯, like a spell chant. You were a dvergar, you know how to do it. Lucky me, I hate when I get a human core. They are so dumb and clueless!¡±

    Ragnar would bash something if he had hands. He pulled his status. He noticed the menu was written in the language of Midgard.

    <blockquote>

    Name: Ragnar

    Core Type: Tetrahedron (regular).

    Core Rank: 0

    Facets: 4 Tiny Triangular

    Free facets: 4 Tiny Triangular

    Inscribed Facets: None.

    Crystallized Facets: None

    Current/Maximum Mana: 10 / 100

    Mana Absorption: 1 / day.

    Current/Maximum Miasma: 10 / 100If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Miasma Absorption: 1 / day.

    Current/Maximum Materials: 0 / 100

    Mana to next rank: 100

    Miasma to next rank: 100

    <ul>

    <li>[Inscribe Facet]</li>

    <li>[Erase Facet]</li>

    <li>[Rank Up]</li>

    </ul>

    </blockquote>

    The phrases in brackets at the end appeared to be interactive. The two at the bottom, however, were grayed out. He wouldn¡¯t mess with any commands before knowing what they did.

    ¡°Could you please explain to me what this ¡®Status¡¯ thing means?¡±

    He asked politely. If he was a seed it meant he was basically sessile now. Fairies were fickle and fast. If he angered the critter, it would fly away and leave him alone. To avoid the worst outcome, Ragnar decided to be diplomatic.

    ¡°Of course! I like you already, Ragnar! I can see your Status as well because I¡¯m your bonded fairy. So, here it goes. First is your name, then the current shape of your crystal seed, your being. You are a Core now, keep it in mind. You are a regular tetrahedron, the smallest kind of seed there is. You must sprout! Well, I don¡¯t know if you studied geometry--¡±

    Her cheeky behavior grated Ragnar past his threshold. ¡°I¡¯ll let you know I was the Lorekeeper of Nidavellir in the court of king Hreidmar! I know my mathematics better than most mathematicians! I have four facets, and by the looks of it, they can be either free, inscribed, or crystallized. What does each classification mean?¡±

    She mocked him by bowing like a jester. ¡°Of course, milord. I wasn¡¯t aware I was dealing with former dvergar royalty! A free facet is available for inscribing. There are several runes you can inscribe on your facets, each of them has a specific effect. A free facet does nothing, it is the most boring of them all. Once you inscribe, it becomes inscribed, doh,¡± she giggled, ¡°Silly me, of course, it is inscribed once it is inscribed! The name says it all!¡±

    Ragnar knew that if he didn¡¯t direct the fairy, she would go on a tangent forever. The little bugs could talk on their own for ages. ¡°What can I do with an inscribed facet?¡±

    ¡°You can do nothing and enjoy the effects of the inscription, or you can erase it if you change your mind. Inscribed facets are awesome like that!¡±

    ¡°Okay. So I can inscribe and erase however many times I want, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes and no! You can but both actions cost mana. Inscribing a facet costs 2 mana and miasma. Erasing a facet costs 5 mana and miasma. Mana is precious and you need lots of it for everything! Not to mention miasma, it is important to lure in monsters!¡± She seemed to reach the apex of her speech because she assumed a lecturing posture. ¡°So, to gain mana--¡±

    ¡°Wait. I beseech you, milady fairy. What is a crystallized facet?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I forgot that! Silly me! When you rank up, your new shape crystallizes over the previous. The inscribed facets¡­ this is VERY IMPORTANT! Never rank up with free facets! You gotta inscribe all of them before doing so!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to remember that. What is the deal with Crystallized facets?¡±

    ¡°You see, they can¡¯t be erased because they are inside you! So once a facet is crystallized, it is game over for that one. But when you rank up you get new facets to play with. That¡¯s very cool. You have to be careful about what facets you want to inscribe and plan your build. Speaking of which, you should open your inscribe menu now. Pick two branch glyphs and two root glyphs to get you started.¡±

    Ragnar didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he contemplated the fae creature and his predicament.

    He was a seed.

    Not even a fucking sapling from Yggdrasil. Yet.

    No. That wasn¡¯t going to happen. Ragnar would rather die again than become a bleeding tree.

    ¡°I¡¯ll browse the inscription menu. Is there any problem with that?¡±

    The fairy smiled and said with a spring on her voice. ¡°No. The options you must pick are the first two. Two of each and we¡¯ll get started. You¡¯ll rank up really soon as each inscription will give you two mana or miasma per facet.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m right on it,¡± Ragnar replied noncommittally.

    <blockquote>

    [Inscribe Facet]: Tiny facets cost 2 mana and 2 miasma to inscribe. The following glyphs are available for any facet:

    <ul>

    <li>Dimensional Branch: Grow a branch that pierces into the Celestial Realm. Gain +2 Mana per day. Growing branches fixes you in place. Branch glyphs crystallize after inscription and cannot be erased.</li>

    <li>Dimensional Root: Grow a root that pierces into the Infernal Realm. Gain +2 Miasma per day. Growing roots fix you in place. Root glyphs crystallize after inscription and cannot be erased.</li>

    </ul>

    </blockquote>

    And there was it, the dilemma of every stupid tree. Get rooted in one place and wish for the best. No. Ragnar would never pick one of these two.

    <blockquote>

    <ul>

    <li>Mana Release Glyph: You can release mana into the ambient to cast spells and create effects.</li>

    <li>Miasma Release Glyph: You can release miasma into the ambient to taint the atmosphere and claim the area as your domain. Each glyph reduces your miasma recovery by 1 per day.</li>

    <li>Excavation Glyph: Excavate the rock next to the atmosphere tainted by your miasma. Collects 2 units of raw materials per hour.</li>

    <li>Matter to Mana Conversion: Increases your rate of conversion of raw materials into mana by 1%.</li>

    <li>Mana Corruption: Increases your rate of conversion of mana into miasma by 1%.</li>

    <li>Purification Glyph: Increases your rate of conversion of miasma into mana by 1%.</li>

    </ul>

    </blockquote>

    He could see the appeal of the branches and roots. If he added one excavation glyph and two mana conversion ones, he would gain roughly one mana per day, a sixth of the mana the same three facets grown into branches would give passively. Worse, he needed to release miasma into the air to excavate, his fourth facet. That would leave him without a way to acquire miasma and forever lock him from ranking up.

    He would live an eternity as a stupid seed rather than become a tree.

    There was only one path forward. Compromising was never an option. He would take the hardcore path. The Dungeon Core would take the hardcore path, he thought with a chuckle.

    <blockquote>

    Inscribing Facets.

    <ul>

    <li>1 Miasma Release Glyph (tiny)</li>

    <li>1 Excavation Glyph (tiny)</li>

    <li>1 Matter to Mana Conversion (tiny)</li>

    <li>1 Mana Corruption (tiny)</li>

    </ul>

    For 8 Mana and 8 Miasma.

    Confirm? [Yes] / [No]

    </blockquote>

    He confirmed. His reserves plummeted. Worse, he felt his miasma slowly leaking out. Ragnar checked his Status again.

    <blockquote>

    Name: Ragnar

    Core Type: Tetrahedron (regular).

    Core Rank: 0

    Facets: 4 Tiny Triangular

    Free facets: None

    Inscribed Facets: 4 Tiny Triangular (MRG, EG, MMC, MC [Expand] ).

    Crystallized Facets: None

    Current/Maximum Mana: 2 / 100

    Mana Absorption: 1 / day.

    Matter to Mana Efficiency: 1.5%

    Miasma to Mana Efficiency: N/A

    Current/Maximum Miasma: 2 / 100

    Miasma Absorption: 0 / day.

    Mana to Miasma Efficiency: 1.5%.

    Current/Maximum Materials: 0 / 100

    Excavation rate: 3 / hour.

    Mana to next rank: 100

    Miasma to next rank: 100

    <ul>

    <li>[Inscribe Facet]</li>

    <li>[Erase Facet]</li>

    <li>[Rank Up]</li>

    </ul>

    </blockquote>

    He was resigned with his choices. He would take a year to rank up instead of just twenty-four and a half days, but that was the only way forward.

    The fairy, however, was less than pleased. ¡°WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?!?! You stupid dwarf of a dungeon core! You tiny piece of malformed crystal!¡±

    She picked Ragnar up and looked at the facets. ¡°Dumbass! Now you don¡¯t have any Mana or Miasma to erase what you did! It will take days, months to fix this! Dear Lord of Midgard, why? Why am I stuck with this moron?¡±

    Ragnar had a good idea of how small he was. Fairies were about one and a half hands tall. They fit inside a mug of ale. Yet he was being held between the index and thumb of the insect-winged fae.

    That meant he was smaller than a pea. Maybe his edge was as long as a grain of rice was wide. From a mighty dvergar lord to a tiny fairy-sized caltrop. A seed.

    Yet he was resolved. Ragnar would not become a tree.

    ¡°Why does it say one and a half and not one percent?¡± He asked the flustered fairy.

    She grunted and bemoaned him for quite some time before she answered. ¡°Because your shape is a regular polyhedron. Regular polyhedrons are special, their facets are one and a half times as effective. Too bad there¡¯s only six of them. You SHOULD¡¯VE been careful with them, as they form the basis of your core functions. Grow a nice copse, a nice root system, will ya? Pretty please?. You can become other irregular polyhedrons later on, with hundreds of facets.¡±

    Ragnar would¡¯ve scratched his beard if he still had one. She only knew of six regular polyhedra? Too bad for her.

    He felt as if he was touching the walls of the small underground chamber they were in. He started to process the raw materials. A unit of ¡°raw material¡± was less than a tenth of an ounce. Ragnar watched for half an hour as a bit of stone wall flaked off the wall and floated into his tetrahedron, passing through his crystalline facet as if it was made of water.

    <blockquote>

    Raw materials: 1 / 100

    </blockquote>

    This would take a long time.

    <hr>

    The fairy just sat on a corner of the chamber and stared at Ragnar. The Dungeon Core was laying on the floor in the middle of the chamber.

    ¡°At least we don¡¯t have to worry about any monsters reaching us. Your miasma production is so pitiful they wouldn¡¯t sense it even if you were glued to their noses,¡± she whined.

    ¡°Aye, lass. But why attract monsters in the first place?:¡±

    ¡°Midgard is in ruins. The collision and merge of four realms changed the planet the humans called Earth. It¡¯s bigger and wilder now. There¡¯s so much suffering and anguish that monsters spawn everywhere!¡± She started her frantic lecture. Ragnar could tell she was deeply moved by the state of the world.

    ¡°Right. Monsters spawning everywhere. But not in here.¡±

    ¡°Yes! So the Lord of Midgard bargained with several souls to bind them to Yggdrasil¡¯s seeds and make them create Dungeons. Once open to the world, the Dungeons emit miasma that attracts monsters and keeps them inside. Then the humans can enter the Dungeon and cull the monsters. Once the monsters are dead, you can attract more and repeat the process. You get lots of Miasma and Mana from the monster kills, the adventurers get stronger, everyone wins!¡±

    ¡°Is there a but in there?¡±

    ¡°But!¡± She raised a finger, ¡°To be a good Dungeon, you need lots of mana and miasma. We¡¯re talking about hundreds of thousands. The most successful cores have dozens of facets dedicated to branches and roots. They usually use their first crystallizations as only branches and roots, to get a head start. And you, my friend, screwed it up.¡±

    Ragnar shook his metaphorical head. ¡°I weep for the fool that thought becoming a tree was a smart move. We shall see who screwed up,¡± he said feigning determination.

    He wasn¡¯t happy with his predicament. Yet being a polyhedral trans-dimensional ash tree seed was better than the void or post-Ragnarok Helheim. He just had to make it work.

 7 - Crystallize

    As a Dungeon Core, Ragnar didn¡¯t need to rest or sleep. His crystalline mind could work tirelessly forever. The biological processes that made one tired didn¡¯t exist, and that combined with the dvergar¡¯s industrial mindset allowed Ragnar to work tirelessly. His routine was to harvest sixty-seven raw materials from the rock over half as many hours, converting those into 1 mana. Every forty-six days he gathered 1 point of miasma. It was a slow grind but after one year and a half, he had enough miasma and mana to rank-up.

    ¡°You are so dumb!¡± The fairy berated him. ¡°You could have ranked up on your own in less than two hundred days if you had done nothing but wait for your miasma to fill up on its own.¡±

    ¡°You have a point. In less than a hundred-fifty, actually. I¡¯m so sorry for wasting your time... I¡¯m not used to having a brain smaller than an ant,¡± Ragnar grumbled back.

    ¡°There¡¯s still a chance to erase these stupid modifications and make two branches and two roots as you should,¡± She half-offered, half-teased.

    ¡°No. What¡¯s done is done. I¡¯ll move forward.¡±

    With that, Ragnar pulled the rank-up menu.

    <blockquote>

    <ul>

    <li>[Rank Up]</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Shard Tetrahedron</li>

    <li>Tiny Cube</li>

    </ul>

    </blockquote>

    ¡°I have two choices for a rank-up,¡± Ragnar commented.

    ¡°I can see your full Status, stupid dvergar-turned-seed.¡± The rejected fairy pouted. ¡°Since you are a tiny dumb oaf, you will pick the small tetrahedron choice, even though it is a stupid choice. Square faces have more options to pick from.¡±

    Even angry and bored as she was for spending a whole year doing nothing but digging minute chunks of stone, the fairy still gave sound advice. She grew a bit in Ragnar¡¯s eyes. She got a point. Since he would be layering his crystallizations over one another, going up a size might not be the best idea. But he needed more information.

    ¡°What comes after a tiny cube?¡±

    ¡°Tiny octahedron. Twice the fun of a tiny tetrahedron. Then a tiny dodecahedron, which grants the rare pentagonal facet. Finally, the tiny icosahedron. Keep in mind that a tiny icosahedron can¡¯t fit inside a small tetrahedron, so you have to pick another shape. Most cores rotate from an octahedron to an icosahedron, eschewing the cube and tetrahedron forms. The cube and dodecahedron are the only ones with non-triangular faces, so they are important. However, if you cycle from a cube, the resulting icosahedron will skip two sizes instead of one as it grows too big.¡±

    He would grow his core by crystallizing over his current shape and growing in size. Which led to the question,

    ¡°How many sizes are there?¡±

    ¡°Twelve. Tiny, Shard, Large Shard, Very Small, Small, Medium, Small Gemstone, Gemstone, Large Gemstone, Large, Very Large, and Huge. Once you get to medium, non-regular polyhedra open up. You usually can squeeze three or four crystallizations in each size category if you are careful in your choices. Some spiky non-regular polyhedra use too much volume.¡±

    Not only the number of faces but the geometry and volume were important. Since the previous shape had to fit entirely inside the next one, some combinations were less efficient than others.

    ¡°Therefore nobody goes back to the tetrahedron,¡± Ragnar mused.

    ¡°Correct! Maybe there¡¯s hope for you. Let me explain to you how the different facets work. You can always inscribe a lesser glyph on a higher facet, but that¡¯s a waste. For example, you could - but shouldn¡¯t - inscribe a branch in a pentagonal facet. Don¡¯t do it.

    Ragnar groaned but didn¡¯t answer. He lost the fairy¡¯s trust and he knew it. And with his resolve to not grow his tree limbs, she was even more distressed.

    ¡°Square facets are for storage. You can increase your Mana, Miasma, and Raw Materials storage with these facets. The storage goes up with each crystallization but a few cores want bigger reserves. Relying on passive absorption through branches and roots is the best, however.¡±

    In Ragnar¡¯s assessment, the fairy was a poor salesperson. She couldn¡¯t sell rotten meat to starving wargs if she had to, he thought.

    ¡°The pentagonal ones?¡±

    She clapped, excited. ¡°Oh, they¡¯re for crafting! Your core has the ability to create magical items! You use mana and raw materials to create treasure as a way to reward adventurers for clearing up your Dungeon.¡±

    She tapped her cheek with her index finger.

    ¡°Your purpose is threefold. One, you circulate mana and miasma between the realms... Through. The. Branches. And. Roots. You. Don¡¯t. Have. I can¡¯t force you to grow them, but please do consider doing that? Your life will be so much easier if you do!¡±

    ¡°I can give it a thought, but the answer will be no,¡± Ragnar answered honestly.

    She sniffled a sob. ¡°Well. Your second goal is to create a Dungeon that can lure in monsters and keep them inside. Midgard¡¯s surface is currently a dreary and dangerous place, with monsters spawning all over it. Without any kind of control, they will destroy the Realm. When you exhale miasma to take control of your domain, the excess will leak out of the Dungeon, and lure in monsters. Then the adventurers will enter and kill these monsters in a controlled environment. Once the monsters are dead, you can lure more after the adventurers are gone.¡±

    ¡°And the third goal, what is it?¡±

    ¡°You give rewards to the adventurers when they diligently clear an entire floor. You¡¯ll obtain later on the power to divine the adventurers¡¯ wishes and needs. Then you craft adequate magical items for them and grant it to those that did their job. This way the adventurers grow in power and ability, allowing them to reclaim Midgard.¡±

    That sounded too naive for Ragnar¡¯s tastes. He needed only one piece of information to assert his conclusion.

    ¡°Can I communicate with people?¡±

    She laughed. ¡°Of course not! Can you imagine? Even if you could, if people knew Dungeons can communicate with them, they would start to pester you for items all the time! Most of them don''t even know the Dungeon Cores exist, and nobody can learn they are sentient. You¡¯ll just sit here in the depths, grow some branches--¡±

    ¡°Quit it, fairy,¡± He warned with a stern tone. ¡°If you continue to push this issue, I¡¯m going to stop talking to you.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay!¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you help me? Am I the only Dungeon Core around?¡±

    She snorted a laugh, ¡°Of course not! The Lord of Midgard is not a fool! There are hundreds of Dungeons out there!¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Ragnar sighed. ¡°So why is it so important that me, of all the hundreds of cores, grow some roots? There was only one Yggdrasil, after all.¡±

    ¡°Because!¡± She interjected with her index pointing up. ¡°Because it is the proper thing to do! You¡¯re a seed, you should sprout.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a fairy, so you should be annoying, is that what you¡¯re saying?¡± Ragnar shot back.

    ¡°No! How mean of you, Ragnar!¡± She pouted even more and turned her head to face away from his Core. ¡°I¡¯m not annoying!¡±

    ¡°According to whom?¡± He pushed.

    She sniffled and sobbed. The fairy¡¯s emotions seemed like an unloaded kn?rr on rough seas, going from one end to the other in a matter of seconds. Too unstable, the dvergar-turned-core reckoned.

    ¡°Do you think I am annoying? Do you dislike me?¡± She finally spoke after a few minutes of awkward silence.

    ¡°I think the disliked one here is me. You are too focused on turning me into a vegetable to even notice we¡¯ve been together for more than a year and you haven¡¯t told me your name. It tells me you only stay here because your task is not complete. It¡¯s obvious that you worked with other cores before. If you are willing to respect my decisions and treat me like a sentient being, I may change the way I deal with you.¡±

    She stared at the crystalline tetrahedral seed for a few moments. ¡°I can do that,¡± she mumbled. ¡°I¡¯m not a kid. I¡¯m three hundred years old!¡±

    To the millennia-old dvergar, she was a kid.

    ¡°My name is Midnight, Ragnar. Pleased to meet you. I was assigned by the Lord of Midgard to be your assistant. I don¡¯t know why, though. I have assisted several very successful Dungeon Cores over the last couple of centuries.¡±

    It felt repulsive to Ragnar, hearing someone speak of Jormungandr¡¯s spawn with such reverence. He spoke his mind.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think your Lord made a mistake?¡±

    That offended her. Midnight did a one-eighty. She glared at the core with cold eyes, picked it up, then flicked it to the wall of the chamber. ¡°That¡¯s why you should have some limbs, little tree. Let me tell you, if you can¡¯t prevent people from taking you out of your little cave, you are powerless. If you leak miasma on the surface, you are going to draw monsters to come and eat you. Do you think you are the kind of seed that can survive a monster¡¯s digestive tract?¡±

    That cemented Ragnar suspicion that the fairy had one or five bolts loose in the gearbox inside her noggin¡¯. Yet, he could remember how much pride one could have from serving a worthy liege. He was in the wrong.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I offended your lord,¡± he apologized sincerely.

    She simmered her anger for a while before picking Ragnar and putting his core back in the middle of the chamber. ¡°Apology accepted. You are from the old universe. Let me tell you, the Lord of Midgard is nothing like his father or grandfather. He¡¯s honorable!¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay. Lesson learned, lady Midnight. I don¡¯t think a magnificent fairy such as yourself would serve a vile being.¡±

    She preened her wings, shivering with glee at the cheap praise.

    ¡°Would you tell me about the other cores you coached?¡± he asked. ¡°How are they faring?¡±

    She frowned. ¡°The cores I coached ended up with hundreds of roots and dozens of branches. Yes, a core ends up needing more roots than branches.¡±

    Miasma feeds monsters, while mana creates treasure. So the cores were feeding more monsters than giving out treasures. But that many roots¡­

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it bring Midgard closer to Helheim than Asgard?¡±

    ¡°These places are no more¡­¡±

    Midnight spent a few hours explaining the changes in the universe¡¯s cosmology to Ragnar. How instead of nine realms there were now only three, and where each one of the old realms went. Ragnar¡¯s crystalline heart soared as he heard that Myrkheim fused with Midgard. It meant he wouldn¡¯t need dimensional travel to reach his former home, just ordinary means of travel.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll rank up now, Midnight.¡±

    ¡°Sure, go for it. You can always¡­ nevermind.¡±

    ¡°Better,¡± he sighed. Maybe she could change and give up on pestering Ragnar about this tree thing. It was getting boring, even a dvergar¡¯s patience wore off after a whole year.

    He selected the option to rank up into a tiny cube.

    Ragnar¡¯s collection of raw materials and conversion processes halted.

    ¡°Damn, what¡¯s happening? I don¡¯t feel so good.¡±

    ¡°Calm down. Let the core do its thing. Don¡¯t mess up things now,¡± Midnight soothed him.

    He felt his reserves plummet as they were pulled out of the core to crystallize around him. His lower facet was covered by a thin film of crystal while the space around his three upward edges filled up with crystal. He had no idea how long it took.

    ¡°All done! You are now a tiny cube,¡± Midnight cheered. ¡°First crystallization is always the most troublesome. Some cores can¡¯t hold it in still and end up with some flaw, but not you. Good job!¡±

    Ragnar sighed internally, ¡°That¡¯s the kind of thing you warn people before it happens.¡±

    ¡°Nah. It backfires if you are aware of it. The souls inside the cores get so nervous they don¡¯t crystallize right if we tell them. Trust me, we¡¯ve tried. Worst-case they crack and die, best scenario they just lose the regular polyhedra bonus. In the average case, they are flawed or cracked in a corner and lose three or four facets. Not you, though. Check your Status¡±

    <blockquote>

    Name: Ragnar

    Core Type: Cube (regular).

    Core Rank: 1

    Facets: 6 Tiny Square

    Free facets: 6 Tiny Square

    Inscribed Facets:  None

    Crystallized Facets: 4 Tiny Triangular (MRG, EG, MMC, MC [Expand] ).

    Current/Maximum Mana: 0 / 250

    Mana Absorption: 2 / day.

    Matter to Mana Efficiency: 1.5%

    Miasma to Mana Efficiency: N/A

    Current/Maximum Miasma: 0 / 250

    Miasma Absorption: 1 / day.

    Mana to Miasma Efficiency: 1.5%.

    Current/Maximum Materials: 0 / 250

    Excavation rate: 3 / hour.

    Mana to next rank: 200

    Miasma to next rank: 200

    <ul>

    <li>[Inscribe Facet]</li>

    <li>[Erase Facet]</li>

    <li>[Rank Up]</li>

    </ul>

    </blockquote>

    ¡°I¡¯m getting 1 free miasma per day. That¡¯s great news!¡±

    She laughed, ¡°Yeah. One miasma. Great. Get your crystalline ass to work. We need to inscribe your facets. I would recommend two of each type of storage, but it is your Core. Do as you wish,¡± Midnight finished with an unsure voice.

    ¡°Thanks for trying, Midnight,¡± Ragnar said and checked his new glyphs.

    <blockquote>

    [Inscribe Facet]: Tiny facets cost 2 mana and 2 miasma to inscribe. The following glyphs are available for square facets:

    <ul>

    <li>Midgard Storage: Increase your Raw materials Storage by 1% upon acquisition and at each Rank Up.</li>

    <li>Celestial Storage: Increase your Mana Storage by 1% upon acquisition and at each Rank Up.</li>

    <li>Infernal Storage: Increase your Miasma Storage by 1% upon acquisition and at each Rank Up.</li>

    </ul>

    </blockquote>

    ¡°They compound,¡± Midnight said before Ragnar could answer. A Core has more than sixty rank-ups. If you purchase two of each, you will have double the storage later on. There are some tight spots for ranking up if you want some special shapes. Unless you have a large storage, they are impossible to obtain. Bigger facets give bigger bonuses too. But regarding storage, the most important step is this one right now.¡±

    ¡°Wait, compound?¡± Ragnar was unsure as to what kind of compounding she was talking about.

    ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s say you inscribe all six facets with Mana Storage. You won¡¯t get a flat six percent increase. You¡¯ll get six one-percent increases, one on top of the other. And when you rank-up, you¡¯ll get another batch of increases. Over several crystallization stages, you¡¯ll feel the difference. Oh, and there¡¯s the regular polyhedra bonus. So it¡¯ll be one and a half percent instead. Even faster.¡±

    ¡°The suggested setup is two of each, right?¡± Ragnar asked just to confirm. He remembered her saying that.

    ¡°Yes. But you won¡¯t do that, right? I believe you¡¯ll eschew Miasma and put three on each of Matter and Mana storages.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t that Ragnar went against the current, but he wanted to make his own choices, informed ones if he could. ¡°Isn¡¯t miasma as important to crystallization as mana? I¡¯m thinking of not increasing my material storage. It¡¯s not as important as the other two.¡±

    ¡°No! Materials are super important, you need lots to create bigger items. And if you skip now, you¡¯ll miss on four rank-ups worth of increases to your storage. That¡¯s a lot.¡±

    ¡°Maybe once I have enough resources I can... Wait. Does it compound the conversion glyphs too?¡±

    ¡°No. Those are linear.¡±

    Ragnar would be surprised if they weren¡¯t. It would be too easy to¡­ wait, ¡°Can it reach more than a hundred percent conversion efficiency? Is there an upper limit?¡±

    ¡°No, there¡¯s none. Some cores do as you say, and they add the conversion bonus as passive regeneration since the process is almost automatic. However, you can get much more resources by making¡­¡±

    ¡°Roots and branches, gotcha.¡±

    ¡°Not happening, gotcha,¡± She replied, doing finger guns.

    ¡°I¡¯m adding three each to Mana and Miasma. Raw Materials can wait,¡± Ragnar declared. If these ¡°special shapes¡± as Midnight hinted at were the solids he was thinking of, it was worth the risk.

    He had to wait for twelve days to gather all the required Miasma.

    <blockquote>

    Maximum Mana 250 ¡ú 261 (+4.57%)

    Maximum Miasma 250 ¡ú 261 (+4.57%)

    </blockquote>

    Midnight wasn¡¯t pleased but she didn¡¯t comment on Ragnar¡¯s choice. She probably decided to adopt a ¡°wait and see¡± posture for now. Without much to do, Ragnar just gathered more Mana and Miasma. This time around, it took only a bit more than two hundred days to rank up. His choices were a medium cube or a tiny octahedron. Following his build plan, he stuck to the tiny size.

 NOT A CHAPTER - Mission Failed. Withdrawing from contest.

    Due to personal health reasons, I found myself unable to focus and write. That meant I didn''t reach 25k words for the deadline tomorrow, and will drop from the November event.

    These last few months were hard. The pressure from several sources combined with the lockdown turned my world upside down. I''m seeing a doctor, let''s see what she prescribes, some therapy or medication.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    I''m sorry for leaving you hanging. I do intend to keep up with ILH, but I definitely can''t push forward with two projects. Maybe one day, I''ll pick them up. I hope so. The process of moving my ideas down my arms, through a keyboard and into the digital "paper" of this webpage is hard.

    Once again, thanks for reading. We''ll meet again soon.