In the middle of a monsoon, thunder roared and gale-force winds strongly howled. The other adventurers had long since turned back and hightailed it out of the looming storm, leaving the two newest juniors to face the coming dangers. Like a lightning rod, [Mjölnir] attracted a steady stream of nature's electricity on command, ready to be unleashed upon the God of Thunder's command.
Steadfast and foremost, Thor Odinson held the leather grip of his Uru hammer proudly. The Asgardian's deep blue eyes shone with power, attuning to the mounting electricity in the air. Not a single spell had been cast from the Allfather-in-training, but the simple scale of his might proved to be on par with a dozen Players casting Super-Tiers at once. Were his opponents capable of fear, the entire force would've long retreated just from the sheer power on display.
~Boom~Boom~Crack~
Rain drizzled mildly, before quickly escalating to a deafening downpour, as each droplet fell with the weight and speed to bruise any unarmored skin. The Earth itself could not drink the water fast enough, causing the road to be filled with mud while the land and plants drowned. Every time lightning struck, the brown dirt glowed bright, molten red as everything nearby was vaporized.
His shiny black, silver, and gold armor reflected flashes of white-blue light, followed by an omnidirectional explosion of flying body parts. The smell of burnt flesh meshed with the rot of the undead, while the legion of zombies continued to mindlessly trudge on. The lightning struck more and more frantically; super-hot craters were left after every impact which doubled as makeshift graves for the restless souls trying to overwhelm a God.
"Are you sure you're not underperforming, Brother? I hear overkill is overrated," shouted Loki warily, letting the sarcasm hide his inner worries. Their senior adventurers had run away with their tail between their legs, leaving the two they should have been advising. A magical barrier had formed above his head, protecting him and his fine clothes from the rain.
Typically, when fighting mythical beasts and godkins, Thor had brought out the barebones of his usual routine. Short of just swinging his hammer among the undead horde and bashing their heads in, firing off lightning from afar was the next best thing. Learning to vary his methods of attack was also a part of what his father had instructed him to do. However, with every senior adventurer missing from the scene, it was very unlikely for Thor to be credited for his display of Asgardian might.
While the ground overflowed with freshly-cooked decaying limbs, Thor kept his eyes and ears keen on the enemies ahead. The drones of zombies being forcibly put to rest was nothing more than a big visual distraction for the seasoned veteran. Trained praetorian eyes sorted through the lines of grey flesh and assorted clothing, looking for details mortals would not understand.
Hidden among its brethren, a sole skeleton stood out under Thor's sweeping gaze. Draped in worn-out rags, pulsing entrails masquerading as organs entangled its limbs. From his days of fighting across the Nine Realms and defending Asgard against all imaginable threats, dealing with undead was within his specialty. This freakish skeleton was a rarer variety of undead, a mohrg, perhaps even the creator of the current pandemic of zombies.
Killing the mohrg would not return the lives of the zombies it created, but it would put a stop to more innocent deaths. Another flash of light came crashing down, trailed by an ear-bleeding boom. The skin-scraping torrential rain began to let up, but the damage had been done. A giant scar in the land had been left by the Asgardian prince, even though he had used 'natural' methods to clear the horde.
Trees growing peacefully under the midsummer sun were split with ashen burn marks or uprooted altogether from the last shockwave. As nature's wrath personified, with unparalleled strength to boot, Thor calmed the gales thrashing trees and body limbs around. As fast as it came, the black storm clouds vanished, shining light on the destruction before them. Nothing had survived Thor's minimal effort, his victims numbering in the thousands. Built to be used like an explosive grenade by the devs, Thor's lack of finesse was no fault of his own.
While Loki procured evidence of their heroics for the adventurer's guild, he leisurely watched his brother put on his detective hat. Investigations were usually Loki's forte, but today, he had decided to only correct Thor's glaring mistakes. Whatever conclusion the favored Odinson came to would be what Loki had to deal with, correct or incorrect. Still, he had his fill of grueling adventurer work for the day.
Their promotions in rank was immediately followed up by a request to investigate rumors of undead sightings. Mere iron plates, freshly promoted, were clearly underpaid and technically unsuited to take on a mission with orichalcum adventures, who had then fled over a mere sighting of a mohrg. Their cowardice, however, was a blessing for the brothers, as Loki foresaw an argument for another promotion when they returned with whatever remains Thor had not destroyed.
Driven into battle head first and hammer swinging, Thor was still green when it came to further investigations. He had little experience in learning from his slain enemies besides how to kill them more efficiently, which up to this point was all he ever really had to do. The Allfather had challenged him to higher sights, but not in the way the Odinson had expected.
The culmination of his time spent on the battlefield honed his fighting skills to best other godkins. Not only were his prowess in combat excellent, but his senses, too, were heightened. The smell of death lingered well after the mohrg was vanquished, but something else also occupied the air. Long deep breaths – in and out – allowed Thor to sift through the new smell.
There was a mild tingle of something… natural to the undead horde. Poisonous fungal spores mixed with the rotting flesh, which was an unusual occurrence for the Odinson. It was a unique smell of miasma he had never encountered before, even throughout his journey across the Nine Realms. Just as the world he had entered was new and unexplored, so too were the creatures.
A fresh biodiversity, unlike anything in Yggdrasil, was enough motivation to get Thor even more excited. Young and bold, one of his foot was already set onto new adventures and battles, but the still-learning tactician thought it better to plan first with his brother. Bringing the charred remains of the mohrg, Thor delicately handled the black, brittle bones and instantly-cooked tendrils.
The freakish storm the God of Thunder had summoned from sheer willpower alone was something Loki was going to have a hard time explaining. Perhaps if there were more physical damage to the battlefield, he could construct a better story to fit their narratives as inhuman champions. Maybe he could persuade the guildmaster with a little fabricated evidence, a touch up here and there, to paint a scene of a warrior versus a horde of undead.
Against his celestial Asgardian armor, the gleam of the iron plate on his chest was nothing but a blasphemous attempt in trying to imprison a god. Loki scoffed at such a human thought, the novelty of immortals trying to blend in with those who should be worshiping them. Odin's vision to stop further Asgardian aggression definitely blindsided him, but it did not mean Asgard and her people should stop being venerated like the divine beings they were.
Even with the constraint of never again lifting a sword, Loki's vision for the future was one of rulers and serfs. There was nothing left of the other realms to challenge the might of Asgard, nor anyone who could. Asgard would be the beacon to bring forth a new age of law and order and ownership to these natives, all while Thor played the part of the 'hero' he always wanted. Standing beside the next Allfather was enough for him to be a proxy ruler, as he knew where his mind was best utilized.
As his brother's keeper, Loki also assumed a role in what the Odinson was learning. Some subject matter he would steer clear of, all the while cementing his usefulness to Thor. Loki thought it folly for literal gods to have the need to grow beyond the perfection they already were. Stretched too thin, and one can never truly master anything, but going outside one's comfort zone with wrong instructions was equally disastrous for any learner.
Regrouped and with evidence of their bounty collected, the brothers returned to the guild.
After spending months in a lifelike imitation of her favorite game, Toreii once again doubted whether she had left the virtual world altogether. She could understand the New World having similar tones of magic to Yggdrasil, but after conversing with the Glacier Dragon Lord, there were too many similarities within 'Wild Magic' for her to ignore. Still, this was due to her own knowledge, and normal Players wouldn't be able to see the connection to the Tier Magic they were used to.
Ai, who played the game since the day of its development, from alpha to official and finally to server shutdown, was privy to knowledge and content the devs would rather leave buried and forgotten. Back in the beta when everyone was playing a god or deity from every different time period and culture, Players also vied for support from NPCs. They used the classical dichotomy of 'god' and 'worshiper' – sacrificing the NPCs to cast spells, but killing off too many meant there was less to spread the faith of the deity or god.
This was later replaced by most RPGs' traditional mana system due to its complexity. It was an interesting system to some degree, but a popularity contest did not make for a balanced and diverse game.
Additionally, it had seemed that whoever had teleported Yggdrasil Players also teleported the beta players as well, and at drastically different times. It could just be a coincidence and Ai was just being paranoid for no reason, but the skeptic in her refused to let the issue rest.
She did not spend her last waking moment in game when the beta ended, which she assumed was when those players were transported. Following the same reasoning, it would not rule out the possibility of another mass flooding of players from the next game the devs developed. It had seemed trying to get answers only raised more questions inside Toreii's mind.
It now begs the question – given Toreii still had levels in [Deity] leftover from transferring her beta character – could she cast her version of 'Wild Magic'? Did she now face the threat of Dragon Lords, Yggdrasil Players and beta players all at once? Ai knew the exact number of transferred characters, counting as they each logged off for the last time. Only two hybrid characters like hers were left by the end of Yggdrasil, but the ones from the beta were unaccounted for.
Did the Dragon Lords inherit the magic system of the beta players, or was it merely a coincidence the two systems were so similar? In order to save her sanity, Ai thought it best to follow Ockham's razor. However, if she could get a glimpse of the time before Dragon Lords – even just a name, image, or some information about the original 'Wild Magic' casters – she would have a definite answer.
Unfortunately for her, the devs never programmed in any time-travelling spells. Forced to play the cards she was dealt, the responsibility to keep herself and Asgard safe became more uncertain. Keeping all the turmoil to herself, Toreii continued to barter information with Ioa. The battle between her and Nyx became a fable of two spellcasters who simply refused to die, yet the Dragon Lord was enrapt, as if the tale was something of historical significance.
Sometimes, the truth was stranger than fiction. Juggernauts who refused to die while outputting high magical DPS might sound fun and exciting on paper, but in actuality, to her, their battle was no more exciting than supportal-combat as she told her version.
It was a 'I fired a spell, and then he fired a spell' fight in her recollection. This kind of battle would've been more dramatic if the two did not have an 'infinite' health pool. Still, Toreii's recount kept the attention of her dragonkin audience. For Ioa and Gratia, it was their first time learning the fate of the 'unkillable' hydra. Unfortunately for Toreii, her terrible memory combined with a typically-poor choice of words were the perfect recipe for misunderstandings.
Ioa's complexion became stale, rigid and blank as she stared at the adolescent child who slew the closest thing to an 'immortal' she knew of. The draconic pride, which allowed many Dragon Lords to be overzealous of their place on the magic hierarchy, was shattered when the truly powerful finally showed up. Having been complacent at the top for far too long, Ioa was there to chronicle the urgent scramble of her kin to adapt and survive.
Any single Player could slew hundreds of mythical dragons like nothing… and she didn't even want to think about what an entire group of Players were capable of. Desperate to prove themselves superior once again, but without the forethought to forgo internal selfish rivalry, many perished fruitlessly in their pursuit of glory, with many of them never even glimpsing a Player's figure. Unlike her peers, Ioa's form reflected her nature to survive at all cost.
Right beside her, Gratia listened to the last moments of her actual father's life. The rewritten memories inside her mind told her it was unacceptable for anyone to continue attacking when the second party clearly wanted peaceful negotiations. Originally believing she hailed from a house of fierce, noble dragons, hearing the shameful acts of aggression from her genealogy dampened her hopes.
Keeping her spells and their tiers a secret with false grandeurs of their battle, Toreii worried about how the heir of Nyx would react to his death. To her surprise, the calm of Gratia's emotions was too eerie for her liking. No instinctive outburst, no weapons drawn from the child who should want to exact revenge for killing her father – this was the last thing Toreii had expected. However, the dragon-girl's well-being was secondary to how important the Dragon Lord's expressions were to Toreii.
Just as Toreii was easily able to falsify the story of her fight with Nyx — since she's the only survivor, after all — Ioa, too, could be lying about the functions of Wild Magic. However, considering how closely it resembled the beta system, it was too much of a coincidence to overlook. If the Dragon Lord was indeed telling the truth, then Players have been transported to the New World for much longer than Toreii originally thought.
A glimpse of the report Viridi had prepared for her about the history of Dragon Lords told her their race was a rare and special kind of ascension, dating back several hundreds of years. It confirmed her theory of 'Evolutionary Leveling' which the New World natives were subjected to.
"The last I saw of him, Nyx was burning on the surface of the sun," said Toreii, finishing her story.
Frigga looked to her beloved with eyes of admiration for his bravery and sacrifice, while her heart palpitated on like a school girl's. Just hearing the ferocious battle between God and Leviathan rekindled her affection for the warrior she initially fell in love with, one her husband had regretfully repressed lately. Her usual air of nobility and attentiveness weakened due to this, and the awkward silence from all parties flew well over her head.
While her active bodyguard was on her personal cloud nine, Toreii was thankfully now more than capable of doing her own social reconnaissance. Glad the Dragon Lord she was negotiating with had human facial expressions and not draconic, the king-in-training saw the fear and gloom dwelling on her guest. Although her intentions were focused on gathering more information about the Dragon Lords, if it was possible, Ai would also like making allies in the New World as well.
Ioa scrounged her thoughts, a mix of personal racial fealty clashing against her overpowering survival instincts. Had it all be just a story, Ioa would not have believed the hydra to be truly dead. However, as the hours passed, so did the evidence of his death compound. Her draconic gut feelings told her the glimmer of the sword and spear nearby were not just for show, as well as experiencing first-hand a forced teleportation through her perfect magical barrier.
There had been murmurs among the closest inner circle of Dragon Lords of the mystical items Players possessed, which the Dragon Emperor himself highly sought after. Many dismissed these to just be baseless rumors started by treasure-hungry Dragon Lords, but Ioa has now seen physical proof of said mystical weapons. Perhaps Ioa had misunderstood how the child was able to get through her barrier; the sharpness of the golden spear gleamed with the power to pierce the heavens themselves, let alone some danky barrier by a Dragon Lord.
Had it been any other kind of Player, perhaps she would have given a second thought to her current decision to betray her race. Survival of the fittest also involved knowing when fighting against extinction was futile. Being branded a traitor and a coward did not matter in the slightest in Ioa's mind. Keeping her back to a mountain meant she could face all threats in front of her without worry – only this time, she found a bigger and stronger mountain who could fight back.
Preparations had to be made if she were to secure her place at the winner's table in the upcoming war. The city-state she had spent a century building would no doubt become nothing more than a disposable frontier for the child-king. Even if her people were to be a proxy for the will of another ruler, she would survive.
For Toreii, while her guest was polite and cordial, she was wary of how open the information she just received was. She was expecting some kind of bargain to trade information, but her pessimism only increased tenfold as the other party readily agreed to her first terms and conditions. Perhaps it was because they're in Asgard, which gave her a homefield advantage, but she digressed. The attitudes and demeanors of the only two Dragon Lords she had met thus far were polar opposites, sitting at different ends of a political compass.
First and foremost, Toreii needed to gain a foothold in the New World without leaking information from her side. The inhabitants of this world were not ready to face the harsh reality of seeing literal gods walking among them; neither were the Asgardians ready to discover a world they did not have to conquer. The title of 'ruler' had many other responsibilities Ai's civilization games didn't cover, and being thrusted into such a position would have disastrous consequences she'd rather not think about.
Up to this point, she had played everything close to her chest, always being the first to receive and review information. Being the information filter between the natives and the Asgardians was not a duty she took lightly, especially now. If any of her Asgardians found out a foreign body was residing within their home unannounced, Toreii was sure there would be skewered dragon meat already roasting around town.
After several more hours of back-and-forth discussion, a verbal contract was agreed upon. While her battle with Nyx was certainly fierce, Toreii was putting her everything into the negotiations. Killing dozens of dragons was practically muscle memory to her back in Yggdrasil – as was spam clicking to skip dialogue. It was a habit she wished she had not developed, as it severely hindered her attention span when others were talking.
Toreii had her doubts about the legitimacy of their treaty when it was only ratified with spoken words, especially when only two witnesses were present to oversee things. Yet, she chose to remain hopeful and iron out the more crucial details later. If it was Frigga or Viridi, there would already be a cursed, written contract, ironclad and inescapable. It was tough deciding when she needed to gain more experience as a ruler and letting her aides be the one to guide her hand.
Wrapping up their peace talks, she ordered Frigga to stay behind in Asgard while Toreii officiated herself as an ally in Ioa's city. The Queen gave a worried frown, but obeyed Toreii's command nonetheless. Teleporting herself and the Dragon Lord back to the stone city, Toreii step foot in her first settlement in the New World as a welcomed guest. It was strange, yet exhilarating at the same time – the first ever expansion pack she would get to personally experience since the end of Yggdrasil.
Their return coincided with sunrise as the pair were promptly surrounded by a dozen acolytes. Although not the warm welcome she expected, it was now her turn to experience another's hospitality. Unsteady but determined, Ioa waived away her magical adepts, dismissing their unwanted concern. The men in runic cloaks exchanged quizzical looks from their master, and to the unknown child she had brought back.
The air within Ioa's throne room became too overbearing and stuffy despite the mountainous temperatures. Ushering them forth outside, the Dragon Lord led her newest patron shamefully to the city she worked decades to build. Even if she only got the briefest glimpse of the city Toreii presided over, it was enough to understand how inadequate her own was. A literal god was humoring Ioa and the mortals she had cultivated to flock to her needs.
"Please, lead the way," said Toreii as a gesture of friendship.
A month had quickly passed since Thor and Loki both arrived and started their journey as adventurers. In this brief amount of time, the bronze plates once hanging around their necks now shone a pristine adamantite; not quite matching the quality of their Asgardian garbs, but it was an improvement. The port city of Vappa had grown to know Thor by name and recognize him upon sight of his bright red cape.
Although public opinion of Thor was at an all-time high, so too was the discourse from his fellow adventurers. Being the enthusiastic oaf he always was, Thor had gone above and beyond for the city, completing as many quests as he could as fast as he could at a level other adventurers were unable to compete with. The Prince of Asgard had unknowingly driven out many other adventurers to unemployment. Daily requests on the board almost exclusively and specifically asked for Thor, knowing he did not care much for the gold. To the people of Vappa, Thor was a walking miracle.
Loki also had an adamantite plate hanging from his neck, but knew better than to make himself too big of a fish in a small pond, already leagues ahead in planning consequences. Knowing the full extent of living behind Thor's shadow every day, these mortal men had insulted him – and, to an extent, Loki – by even thinking their problems were even comparable. Yet he bit back his tongue every time he heard another rambling from jobless disgruntled adventurers.
Thus far, Thor was the one calling the shots and planning their future endeavors, with some consideration from Loki, though most of the time it was 100% 'the Thor show' and Loki just went along for the ride. He saw how easily resentment for the Odinson grew despite the good intentions Thor always had. It seemed cultivating hatred through jealousy was another means which Loki would have to look further into while among the humans. Loki hated to admit it, but once again, the Allfather was right: There was indeed a thing or two Loki could learn by watching the humans.
After a lifetime as the second prince, Loki easily slipped under the other adventurer's attention, whose ire was all aimed at Thor. Several opportunities presented themselves to stoke the flames further, but Loki decided he could patiently wait it out. The fire of hatred against Thor grew by the day as more and more gold were drained from the pockets of the discarded adventurers.
Wearing his smile and offering his sympathy with free drinks, the God of Mischief was practically the captain of the anti-Thor hate club. It was unexpected, but he had found a common ground with the mortals he originally berated. Of course, they were still second-class in every way possible, yet he still found it endearing they all hated a singular person.
Thor, none the wiser, was busy with his investigation of the rising number of undead springing up around the area. Despite their usual rarity, more mohrgs were inexplicably creating large hordes of zombies every time. At every encounter, the seasoned veteran found the same hidden clue: A familiar light traces of fungal spores at every scene, leading him to suspect biological warfare was at play.
He had raised his concerns to the guildmaster, who seemed much too calm about the situation. If Thor was the one investigating the matters, everyone else has grown to expect the problem to be resolved quickly. While Thor greatly appreciated the notion, it was definitely not what his father had intended the heir of Asgard to be learning. There was also no way Thor could let a single undead pass to make the humans learn a lesson about over reliance.
Paying for hubris with their lives was not unheard of by Thor, but he had grown too attached to the mortals who looked up to him. Perhaps this was a lesson Odin had planned for the budding Odinson to learn well and steer clear of in the future. Doing too much was just as adverse as doing too little, and Thor saw now the difficulty walking the fine line of doing both. In his rush to gain the trust of the people, he only became their sword and shield. Thor was, by all means, still a good soldier boy.
Remembering his father's shining example, Thor sought to follow in the Allfather's footsteps: He would teach the humans magic to defend themselves.
A/N: Sorry for the unexpected hiatus, I had recently moved and only now got my internet back. Hopefully I'll get back to regular updates soon.