Chapter 228: Chapter 52: The Broken Divine Lance and the Magic Box_3
Could it really be because the World Tree’s connections to the fundamental Laws of the nine great kingdoms were too tight, so that as the world fell apart, it too lost all its power...
“Lord Laine, look over there.”
“Hmm?”
Suddenly, Mimir’s voice rang out. Following the sound, Laine looked to where he was pointing. On a severed root, there unexpectedly was a section of what seemed to be an ‘artificial stick’—not naturally formed.
It looked plain and ordinary, like any other common object. But looking at it, Laine immediately grew serious.
An unmistakable man-made object being found within what remained of the original World Tree’s roots, and even when placed before one’s eyes, not the slightest bit of peculiarity was perceivable—this alone was enough to prove its extraordinariness.
“What is that?”
Having some suspicions in mind, Laine still first asked the ‘local’ who was more knowledgeable.
“That is Gungnir, also known as Gungnir, the Divine King Odin’s weapon, a Divine Lance forged from the branches of the World Tree. When it was whole, it possessed the powers of ‘unerring strike’ and ‘penetration’; as long as it was thrown, it would surely pierce the body of the enemy. Moreover, anyone who swore an oath upon it was bound to have it fulfilled.”
With a somewhat nostalgic and incredulous expression, Mimir slowly narrated the history of this Divine Artifact.
Laine nodded, as if listening intently, but in reality, he knew even more than what was being told.
It was precisely because of the existence of this Divine Lance in Scandinavian mythology that the northern European humans later developed the tradition of throwing a spear at the opposing side before two armies clashed. Moreover, because it was said that when Odin threw his spear, it resembled a shooting star crossing the sky, people began the tradition of making wishes upon shooting stars.
This legend even spread to every corner of the world, and even in the culturally distinct East, a great many people awaited the appearance of shooting stars.
However, at this moment, before Laine and Mimir, the very Divine Artifact upon which Divine King Odin relied for his undefeated conquests was already broken.
It had lost its spearhead, leaving only the shaft. It seemed to still hold some vitality because, unsurprisingly, it had drained the vitality of the Yggdrasil’s segment of root.
“You really are in a hurry... Not even taking the time to judge the ‘sinners’, you’re already laying the groundwork for the next era. Perhaps you’ve sensed something?”
The serpent’s body lifted slightly, causing the entire plane to tremble.
The smaller fragments outside the realm had already been pulled into Chaos; they were small enough in size to be the quickest to transform, and perhaps within a few centuries, their ultimate fate, whatever it may be, should be decided.
And it was only natural for Zeus, as a Divine King, to be aware of this.
“A node.”
The deep and resonant voice echoed in the courtyard, Laine thought, and Liana in the Spirit Realm immediately received the message.
She was to go to Olympus to bring a gift to the newly born female. After all, in any case, she was born from the water of the Well of Reincarnation’s precursor, the Well of Origin.
“Go, put its reflection into it as my gift to humans, if indeed they can receive it.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Even without seeing any figure, Liana had long grown accustomed. She collected what Laine had instructed and then left the Spirit Realm.
From within the Nine Hells, Laine surveyed the world, witnessing all that transpired upon the earth. Having lived through it once, he gained a deeper understanding of this history.
Pandora’s Box, a symbol of disaster in legend, contained things both good and bad. Was the world in peace and harmony before the birth of this box, devoid of conflict and calamity?
Of course not, the box was merely a symbol. It signified that the gods had finally begun to grasp some mysteries of faith, so each of them placed an item inside the box, whether a curse or a blessing, to symbolize the grandeur of god, and that ‘good and evil, right and wrong, all come from god’.
As for the ‘hope’ that was trapped inside the box, it was doomed never to fly out, for how could a fake ever become real?
“In a world controlled by fate, isn’t real hope about stepping outside of fate?”
The serpent returned to its original position, no longer concerned with these ‘trivialities’. If the integration of the Nine Realms once again twisted the fateful trajectory meant for Chaos, then let it add fuel to the fire.