Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1392 The Spring of Urd and the Trolls (Part 2)

Fimbulwinter has arrived, and even Asgard has been affected.

Villages outside the city walls, unprotected by the Asgardian gods, were constantly attacked by hordes of wild beasts, and unprecedented infectious diseases and pests were spreading across the fields. The Golden Palace dispatched Thor with a research team to the countryside to collect samples, hunt down the beasts hiding in the mountains, and escort the diseased crop samples back to the walls for research and analysis. This was a routine procedure for many years, and generally, there weren't many problems. Thanks to the abilities of Frigga's handmaidens in the Golden Palace, most crop diseases in the universe could be resolved through the development of targeted drugs, the release of resistant viruses, or genetic engineering and other technological and magical means. Even disasters that were difficult for ordinary people to combat allowed Thor to demonstrate his power.

This time, however, Thor encountered the largest wild boar he had ever met.

It was a terrifying beast, very old, so old that its fur had faded to a grayish-white, short hair mixed with dried mud. The brown fur common on a wild boar's high back was absent from this beast; instead, it shimmered with a golden hue in the sunlight. But that golden hue vanished in an instant. Thor only saw filthy grayish-white fur, the boar's terrifying, upward-curling tusks were entirely yellow, and the scythe-like bone spikes, as tall as a man, were speckled with decaying black spots. The beast's foul breath could blow from one end of the field to the other, sending mud, wheat, and insects flying into the air like a whirlwind whipped up in a low-lying area.

"Gullinbursti?"

Thor tentatively called out a name, for he saw the boar's fur briefly glow golden in the sunlight, and beside its enormous hooves, fields of ripe winter wheat were stained with terrible black spots and decay. Thor's call went unanswered; the giant beast's eyes were clouded with a white film, and its rash-covered ears were filled with flies and maggots. He wasn't sure if the boar belonged to Frey, the god of fertility, but even if it was Gullinbursti, he had to defeat this sickly beast and stop the disease that was destroying the crops.

When he dragged the dead beast back to the city walls, hymns praising Thor once again circulated in the taverns. But this time, Thor had no interest in going to the taverns to listen to bards boast about their exploits, to hear those who had never witnessed battle brag about how they defeated "a boar as tall as a mountain" and "destroyed rivers and mountains." He felt he needed to confirm whether this boar was indeed the Gulimbost of Frey.

Thor knew his relationship with Frey wasn't exactly close, but if Asgard lost Frey, it would mean a devastating blow to Asgard's crop yields, increased dependence on colonies beyond the Nine Realms, and a more severe colonial rebellion caused by the forced requisition of food—this complex relationship had been explained to him by the wise men in the court; otherwise, he would never have understood it in his life. He felt he now needed his father's wisdom and had to seek help from others.

He first went to see Sif, only to learn that she was seriously ill. Even El, one of Frigga's handmaidens and the goddess who oversaw the medical institution, was helpless regarding Sif's condition. Then he went to see another of Frigga's handmaids, the wise Val. This goddess was insightful and observant; it was said that nothing could escape her eyes. After Val had examined the boar he had hunted, she summoned another of Frigga's handmaids, Herin. Herin's name meant "Guardian," and she would protect those whom Frigga wished to protect. Similarly, some people call someone who receives a warning before impending disaster "Herin."

"Go to the Well of Urd and seek the Three Norns; even your father will heed their advice." After observing the morbid beast's corpse, the Val goddess gave her answer. "The youngest Skadi at the Well of Urd will tell you the answer. Beware of her; she controls the future, and it's terrible. The threads of fate spun by the Three Norns according to Wyrd (the destiny in Germanic mythology) are always torn to shreds by her, for the future is not immutable and can even be contradictory. You must carefully discern the answers she gives you."

The three Norns had repeatedly warned of the coming of Fimbulwinter, but those three mad prophets had been reiterating this warning for over a thousand years, and no one paid any heed. Thor arrived at the place where the World Tree was deeply rooted, his face filled with embarrassment, for he had once been one of those who loudly proclaimed the Norns' alarmist pronouncements. Just as Vale had said, Skuld was not welcoming of his arrival. "I have already told you, Fimbulwinter has come, Ragnarok is near." She did not look at Thor, but gazed into the void. The starlight reflected from the Well of Urd shone on her veil, and threads inscribed with runes of fate lay scattered at her feet. "I have told you, son of Odin."

“Your father didn’t listen to our advice,” said Verdandi, a woman with a mature and alluring appearance. This was her current perspective. “So you’ve come to us.”

"Because you've been deceived again." The aged-looking Urd shook his head. "You're always being deceived, son of Odin."

"What should I do?" Thor asked.

"Step into the spring," Skuld spoke again. Her voice was as ethereal as ever, as if she weren't speaking to Thor, but rather a ghost lost in time. "The dead will tell you all the secrets," Skuld said. "You have already soaked in the Spring of Urd; the water will allow you to see unexpected dead beings."

"She didn't speak in chronological order," Verdandi said, looking at Thor. "But she's right; you need to soak in the spring."

The halberd's sharp blade precisely sliced ​​open the giant creature's throat, and blood as black as crude oil gushed out.

Hammurabi gripped the monster's skull tightly with one hand, while the other hand held the tip of the Guardian Spear's shaft, using his signature weapon like a cleaver. Instead of activating his disintegration field, he repeatedly swung the monomolecular metal blade until it cleaved the thick spine, bone fragments and blood splattering everywhere. Only after tearing the still-howling monster's head from its body did he turn his weapon towards another troll behind him, then pulled the trigger and fired a cannonball.

Trolls, or mountain monsters, are creatures that look foolish.

They are enormous, with thick limbs, and their brains are completely insufficient to support advanced thinking. Even so, they possess a cunning and instinct that belies their appearance. Trolls have five fingers similar to humans, but their claws and teeth are extremely sharp, easily tearing through animal skin and breaking thick bones. They prefer to hunt at night and stay in caves to avoid the sun during the day. However, as the sunlight in Scandinavia gradually decreases, these trolls have gained a long period of activity without worrying about becoming stiff from sun exposure.

Once upon a time, trolls lived on Earth, but with the passage of time, the troll race long since vanished into the dustbin of history, leaving only fragments in Viking legends. Now, these trolls are arriving in droves through another passage in the dimensional rift, ravenously searching for anything edible, as if something were chasing after them.

These creatures, nearly the size of a Royal Guard, possessed incredibly tenacious vitality. Even the Royal Guard initially suffered some losses against them; Amon's armor was even corroded with a large hole by the foul-smelling, acidic saliva of a troll. Fortunately, the power armor and bio-alchemy provided far more strength than the trolls' hideous bodies could offer. The Royal Guard quickly adjusted their positions and began slaughtering the trolls that had entered the planet. Explosive bombs were still far too powerful for these creatures. Their high-density muscles and bones did not make them immune to these armored warheads capable of piercing metal armor. Their flesh remained incredibly fragile upon the explosion, just like the deer and brown bears they hunted.

Although the Royal Guard's primary function is not combat, their formidable strength is an indispensable ability for achieving their goals. If they so desired, no one on this planet could surpass them in the art of killing. Their battles are devoid of any superfluous movements; "precision" and "efficiency" are the best adjectives to describe their fighting style—just half an hour later, the Royal Guard and the Emperor, who had just slaughtered a small troll tribe, arrived at the passage to reality connecting Nilfhheim and Midgard, as Odin had described, by following the faint, strange footprints in the snow.

The Emperor and his royal guards had repeatedly discovered mangled skeletons of wild animals in the snow, their entrails, fur, and flesh all gone. Through calculations of the skeletons and the Emperor's estimation of the minimum food intake required for trolls, Amon estimated the number of trolls that had come to Earth. Now it was time to verify their calculations. The cave was perfectly capable of accommodating them—although they hadn't even entered the cave, everyone could smell the stench emanating from the trolls. The Emperor and his royal guards had even seen blankets made of animal hides, the fat beneath the hides still greasy. Perhaps this was why troll skin was always so oily.

Unaware of the intensity of the upcoming battle, the Imperial Guard decided to first resolve their inner doubts.

"My lord, should we also consider the superstition of Fimbulb Winter, which exists only in mythology?" Hammurabi asked. "The current extreme weather is caused entirely by the volcanic ash from Scandinavia blocking the sunlight. To link it to the doomsday of Asgard is a baseless inference."

"Fimbourne Winter is a general term for apocalyptic phenomena, which manifest differently on different planets."

The Emperor seemed pleased that Hammurabi had raised an objection, and he patiently answered the Praetorian Guard's questions. He pointed to the clouds gathering on the distant mountain peaks. "According to our measurements, the solids content of that cloud far exceeds normal levels, indicating that it contains a large amount of volcanic ash. Just melt the snow beneath our feet, and you can see many solid particles as well—this is the effect of Quetzalcoatl."

Amon expressed his bewilderment at this.

"The extreme weather caused by volcanic ash blocking sunlight is a ritual, because the cold and hunger suffered by the souls lost in this disaster will be the prelude to Ragnarok. In the outer dimensions, all actions and phenomena have meaning, and rituals can become real as long as someone believes. The prophecies of Fimbulb Winter and Ragnarok have been circulating in Asgard since its founding. Do you remember how I described this phenomenon in my book 'Self-Fulfilling Prophecy'? Of course, we will not limit ourselves to the psychological concept of self-fulfilling prophecies, but rather broaden our horizons to study the phenomenon of self-fulfilling prophecies in groups and even societies."

The emperor's killing efficiency was high, yet he remained nonchalant, piercing the troll that attempted to attack him with his golden spear. Its obese belly was ripped open like parchment, its foul entrails splattering onto the cold rock. The female troll howled and collapsed, trying with its last strength to bite the emperor's boots with its yellowed fangs. But before it could do so, Amon crushed its jaw, trampling it to death along with the troll cubs trying to jump off its back to escape.

These trolls who came to Earth were trapped in the cave by Odin's carnage, unable to advance or retreat—though the Allfather was old and frail, his spells had become even more powerful. An ordinary axe, combined with runes, could pierce through the trolls' slimy, thick hides and chisel through their robust bones—the monsters didn't know who was killing them, but Odin's bloodlust greatly intimidated them. Therefore, the Emperor believed Odin had ulterior motives; the old man didn't need help at all, and these monsters were the prey. In fact, these trolls weren't the point; Odin didn't care if they attacked nearby human settlements. He simply wanted to lure the Emperor into that passage.

The Emperor believed he had seen through Odin's scheme and had no intention of foolishly walking in and falling for it. As Ragnarok drew near, Odin, who had previously adorned himself with honors and titles, would inevitably lower his standards of hypocrisy even further. The Allfather was a cruel, bloodthirsty, and cunning ruler; he was unlikely to suddenly have any interest in the future ruler of Kamar-Taj and the ruler of mankind, especially after bestowing so many gifts upon them.

"Ragnarok in Asgard will be your next subject. This subject will be a regular feature on your desks in Obsidian Tower. We will explore the successes and failures of the Aesir to prevent us from following the same path when guiding the human race." The Emperor looked at Hammurabi. "Asgard made many decisions for us, and they paid the price for humanity. We only need to learn from their mistakes to get through this most difficult time ahead."

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(End of this chapter)