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Chapter 304 - Reforging the Broken Sword Gram
Then, a handsome demigod youth of about sixteen or seventeen walked over to Promise and the bird, the breeze ruffling his hair.
Who else could it be but Promise's nominal older brother, one of the greatest heroes of this era, the legendary Sigurd?
But at this age, when he should have been full of vigor, Sigurd looked unusually dejected as he sat down beside Promise.
"Failed again today?"
Seeing this, Promise asked instinctively.
"Yeah," Sigurd nodded, his voice tinged with frustration as he spoke. "Even though Uncle Mime agreed to let me go out and adventure, no matter what kind of weapon he forges for me, I just end up breaking it with a single swing."
"How am I ever supposed to start my journey like this?"
Promise glanced at Sigurd but didn't respond.
Because he knew that Sigurd's desire to leave wasn't just about starting an adventure—it was about fulfilling a duty.
It was about avenging his dead father and slaying the king named Gram with his own hands.
Although Promise knew full well that the reason for Sigurd's father's defeat was Odin's spear, Gungnir, shattering the holy sword Gram.
However, Sigurd still had every reason to seek revenge against that king, as his father had been killed by King Gram, and the kingdom that rightfully belonged to him had also been seized.
Yes, Sigurd was a prince.
In fact, even though his kingdom had fallen, Sigurd was still a prince.
Because his mother, in order to protect Sigurd and survive, had already remarried another king.
And that king was a kind and gentle ruler.
He had even sworn to the gods that he would treat Sigurd as his own child.
But to ensure Sigurd grew into a hero like his father and avenged him, his mother had sent the young Sigurd to the dwarf Mime.
She repeatedly reminded him not to forget his hatred.
And Sigurd had never mentioned any of this to Promise.
The reason was simple: Sigurd was actually a very clever person, so he had long since guessed that Promise wasn't truly his brother.
But after more than ten years of companionship, Sigurd still saw him as a "younger brother."
However, because of this, he believed that Promise didn't share the same duty of vengeance.
"Are you planning to leave soon?"
Promise suddenly asked.
Hearing this, Sigurd hesitated for a moment.
Under the gaze of Promise's emerald eyes, he had initially thought of weaving a kind lie, but in the end, he nodded and answered honestly, "Yes, I'm planning to leave. Because, I've stayed here long enough, and...
Mother has been waiting for me to return."
"I see."
Promise nodded and said no more.
But that night, while Sigurd was fast asleep, the broken sword Gram, which had always been by his side, was quietly stolen by a little bird.
Then, in the forge inside the cave.
The dwarf Mime controlled the temperature of the furnace, tossing in fragments of Yggdrasil one after another, causing the sacred flames to burn.
He melted the prepared iron from the underworld and the broken holy sword.
At the same time, the dwarf Mime looked up at the child who had swallowed the golden apple, holding a hammer, his eyes as clear as the stars.
After all these years, the dwarf Mime naturally had a certain understanding of the forging skills possessed by Promise'.
He had long realized that Promise's abilities were no less than his own.
And the power of his forging seemed to be a blessing from some unknown deity.
But...
That was the invincible holy sword of old.
Mime couldn't help but think this in his heart.
Though it had been broken, it was shattered by the king of god, Odin's spear, Gungnir, which spoke volumes about the sword's divine nature.
After all, it was the prototype of King Arthur's sword in the stone.
And it was precisely because of this, Mime, who was historically the one who reforged the sword Gram, had been unable to bring himself to forge it until now.
Even in the original history, it wasn't until there was no other choice that Mime finally resolved to reforge the holy sword.
So, when it came to Promise's determination to reforge the sword, Mime was naturally skeptical deep down in his heart.
Not only that, he even planned to use this as a learning experience for when he would eventually reforge the sword himself.
But when Promise swallowed the golden apple, stood still for a moment, then suddenly opened his eyes and swung the hammer, striking the broken sword with a resounding clang,
Mime realized he was wrong.
With that single strike,
Mime abruptly stood up, startling the little bird Nini, who had been resting nearby.
He stared in disbelief at the broken sword.
Because as a legendary dwarf blacksmith, Mime could hear it—the "heartbeat" of the holy sword Gram.
With just one strike, Promise had brought the broken, dead sword back to life!
Then, under the hammer of Promise, the broken holy sword soon began to emit its luster again, and burst out with light that looked like the light formed by the gathering of stars.
Forging a holy sword was nothing new for Promise.
This light, on this night, illuminated all of Svartalfheim, the realm of the dwarves, causing countless dwarves to emerge from their caves, gazing in awe at the starlight of the forge.
And this sight, of course, was also witnessed by the little bird Shini.
She observed and recorded everything she saw.
Thus, the three deities in the kingdom of Asgard also gazed upon this scene through Nini's eyes.
They watched as the broken sword, in Promise's hands, was not only reforged but also shone with a brilliance far surpassing its original glory...
...
A few days later,
"Sigurd, there are many things I know, far more than you might guess."
Still under the ancient tree outside the cave, bathed in the fading light of the setting sun, Promise smiled gently as he handed the reforged holy sword to Sigurd, who was staring at him in shock.
"I even know that you've known your future from the very beginning, yet you still chose to walk the path of fate."
In the myths and legends, Sigurd had indeed known his future from the start.
The Norns had revealed everything to him from the very beginning.
The grand legends written about him, and the tragic future of being betrayed by those he trusted, losing his love, and dying because of it.
But Sigurd's choice was the same as that of other great heroes.
In Celtic mythology, Cú Chulainn, the Hound of Ulster, knew he would die young, yet he charged forward without hesitation.
In Greek mythology, even though he could have avoided death by taking a single step back into his mother's embrace, Achilles never turned away.
And Sigurd was no different.
Promise naturally knew all of this, so...
"Go ahead, Sigurd.
You don't need to look back, and I won't stop you. But when you reach that moment of fate, I... will come to you!"
Promise smiled, looking at Sigurd in front of him.
Under the watchful eyes of the little bird Shini, he made his first vow since arriving in the Age of Norse Gods.
"At that time, I will perform a magic trick for you, a trick called 'fate.'
And at that moment, I will also teach you how to 'humiliate' a goddess—the goddess who weaves fate!"
Clutching the reforged holy sword in his hands, Sigurd engraved Promise's image deeply into his mind. Then, as night fell, he left.
At the entrance of the cave, Mime also stood in the faint light, silently watching Sigurd's departing figure.
"...It's not the time yet."
He whispered softly.
Yes, it wasn't the right time yet.
After all, Sigurd was still too young and inexperienced to face the dragon Fafnir, who guarded the Rhinegold.
At the same time...
Mime gazed at the boy who stood silently watching Sigurd depart, a boy several years younger than himself.
Recalling the events of the past few years and the starlight that had illuminated the entire realm of the dwarves that night,
Mime's expression suddenly grew a bit complicated.
But soon, it was replaced by boundless greed.
After all, it was the Rhinegold.
To possess it was to possess all the wealth in the world.
No one could resist its allure—the Rhinegold!
"Hmm... I just realized I probably should have made my stance clear earlier."
As Sigurd left and Promise prepared to return to the cave, the little bird Shini, who had recorded everything, flapped her wings and landed back on Promise's shoulder.
Facing the puzzled look in the boy's eyes, she continued, "To scold you! I'm the messenger of the Norn of Fate, and you just told me you wanted to humiliate the Norn of Fate... Be careful, or I'll bite you!"
As she spoke, Shini spread her wings, pretending to be fierce.
She looked as if she was ready to defend the dignity of the Norn of Fate with her life.
But Promise just gave her a sidelong glance.
Your loyalty comes a bit late, doesn't it?
Everything's already over, and now you jump out after watching the whole thing.
So Promise stretched out his finger and gently flicked her little head.
And Shini, in turn, pecked at Promise's hand.
Then, the two of them—human and bird—chatted as they returned to the dwarf's cave. As the night grew quiet, they soon fell asleep, enveloped in a layer of mist.
In their dreams, when the mist cleared, Promise and Shini found themselves back in a familiar place.
The sacred realm of Asgard, at the roots of Yggdrasil, by the spring of Urd.
Apart from seeing the Norn of Fate, who sat as usual on the roots of Yggdrasil, holding a book and dressed in a mysterious black gown,
Promise also saw the Goddess of Youth, Idunn, who looked slightly anxious, as if something was troubling her.
But the moment she saw Promise, her expression lit up with joy.
The Goddess of Youth in Norse mythology, Idunn.
'Hmm... I suddenly feel that the scene in front of me looks a bit familiar!'
As Promise instinctively recalled his experiences in the Age of Greek Gods, he once again caught the scent of something called a "trial."
