Chapter 3: Surtur, the Fire Giant 1
The black cat, transformed from a black dragon, moved tirelessly. Empowered by magic, each step it took was like crossing an iceberg. Even at this speed, traversing the entire distance from the Land of Mist to the Land of Fire left the black dragon somewhat exhausted.
Finally, it had no choice but to grow its original wings within its cat form to cross the Kinggalon Gap and seek refuge in the Land of Fire.
Before even reaching the Land of Fire, the relentless flames reached the top of the Kinggalon Gap, nearly scorching the black cat's fur. Although it was a magically transformed body, the black dragon's spell effects were remarkably lifelike; every single hair on its body was perfectly imitated.
At this moment, the black dragon had arrived at the southern side of the Kinggalon Gap, opposite Niflheim, a land of extreme heat known as Muspelheim, the Land of Fire. Here, everywhere one looked, there were raging flames and blinding light.
The incessant pounding of the fire giant Surtur has now ceased. The black dragon, once annoyed by the sound, had even fought Surtur over it.
Now, amidst the frenzied footsteps of the frost giants, their voracious sucking, and the earth-shattering mooing of the cows, the black dragon even felt a pang of longing for Surtur.
At least the fire giants' pounding had rhythm! If you listened carefully, it even had a musical quality!
Now, the frost giants' frenzied, beast-like roars were driving the black dragon mad. Not only that, but when Ymir was thirsty, she would lie down and lick the inexhaustible spring of Hvagmir. The enormous spring appeared like the opening of a small cup to Ymir, forcing her to swirl it with her tongue, turning the clear water into a murky mess.
That was where the black dragon usually drank and rested!
Is there no justice? They're stealing my territory!
The black dragon had lived in the Land of Mist for an unknown amount of time, its only neighbor being the giant Surtur. It had long considered the Land of Mist its own territory, but now it faced an unprecedented crisis—it had nowhere to live.
Even though it understood the entire narrative of Norse mythology and knew that the frost giants would inevitably be defeated by Odin and his brothers, how long would that be?
The entire Land of Mist was thrown into turmoil by Ymir. Icebergs, once plucking from the ground like toys, were tossed back down from the sky, or, as if to prove its power, hurled into the void, becoming lonely shooting stars, disappearing from the world.
To use a room as a metaphor, the Land of Mist had transformed in a single day from a neat and orderly child's room into a pigsty where even the mother had to call the child by its full name.
"Ouch! Ouch!"
Just as the black dragon cautiously crawled forward through the Land of Fire, hoping to avoid being discovered by Ymir, a painful howl reverberated throughout the universe. Even the flames of the Land of Fire were terrified by the sound, burrowing into the ground and refusing to rise. The magma was also frightened by the sound, and the perpetually burning Land of Fire seemed noticeably calmer because of the painful howl.
"What happened?"
The black dragon looked behind it. Ymir was crouching, clutching her stomach, teeth clenched, gasping for breath.
Each exhale blew away the perpetually gloomy clouds of the Land of Mist, creating a hole in the gray sky that shrouded the land. Each inhale sucked up the snow and ice from the ground, causing a blizzard to rage.
The blizzard of the mortal world, of course, could not obstruct the black dragon's vision. It immediately understood why Ymir was howling.
Ymir, not content with licking the inexhaustible spring, dared to try and drain all twelve great rivers. However, one of these rivers was the source of the black dragon's water; its seemingly clear liquid was actually mixed with the dragon's venom. Even a giant born from chaos would suffer excruciating pain if he drank it.
Ymir not only howled in agony but also pounded his abdomen with his fists five times, coughing up blood clots that fell into the Vimur River.
Now, the river contained not only the black dragon's venom but also Ymir's poisonous blood. These two deadly substances flowed across the land, cracking ice and turning frozen soil into barren, scorched earth.
Ymir recovered. Without a second thought, he knew where the venom in the river came from—it must have been that wretched poisonous insect!
Not only was it ugly, but it also poisoned me!
Ymir grew increasingly enraged, approaching the Land of Mist along the Kinggalon Canal, plunging her head into the gray sky, her eyes blazing with furious fire like the sun, meticulously searching the land, determined to capture that hateful venomous insect!
"This time, we've truly made an enemy..."
The black dragon continued its march, traversing mountains and rivers in the blink of an eye. It was confident in its strength, believing no mortal could surpass it, but Ymir before it was far beyond the ordinary. In a direct confrontation, the black dragon lacked the confidence to win.
Even with its uncanny magical arts, it could only barely defend itself against Ymir's immense power.
Unless it gained allies.
The black dragon drew ever closer to its target, its blazing light truly like the sun descending upon the earth. Even in the Land of Fire, where lava flowed and flames rose, this heat was extraordinary.
The black cat, transformed from a black dragon, stopped before the magnificent object, gazing upwards. This divine sword, forged from solidified metal, radiated an undying brilliance. Its tip was embedded in the ground, yet even the scorching earth of the Land of Fire couldn't withstand its heat. Soil near the blade was instantly vaporized, fueling the surrounding flames.
It wasn't so much that the sword was embedded in the ground, but rather that it was slowly evaporating the earth as it plummeted vertically. The sword was simply too enormous; the distance it would fall from hilt to tip would likely take years.
The black cat, in its transformed form, chanted a spell. Flames approaching it were extinguished, and light dimmed before it even touched it. With a light leap, its petite body naturally landed on the hilt.
"Nidhogg, what are you doing here?"
A familiar voice echoed from the heavens, the originally earth-shaking roar becoming elegant before Ymir's booming cry.
The folds were filled with magma, and the gigantic face, breathing flames, approached the sword hilt and spoke to the black dragon.
However, compared to his usual silent, solitary figure wielding his sword against the cliff face, Surtur's current appearance was rather comical.
He curled up, legs together, hands wrapped around his knees, burying his face between his legs. Had he not suddenly spoken, the black dragon would have almost thought this magnificent volcano was truly inanimate.
"Are you trying to drive that giant away?"
Before Nidhogg could speak, Surtur voiced his thoughts.