Snösikte was seconds ahead, the last surviving rival clinging to a neighboring rope. The pale archer turned, drawing two arrows at once. His bow ignited with red as he released.

  Both arrows struck true, cutting the other archer’s rope in half.

  The man’s scream faded as he plunged into the endless dark.

  Every rational part of Karl screamed this was suicide as he moved, but instinct took over. He marked Snösikte’s rope, activated Elf Leap, and teleported ninety meters through the air—straight onto one of the visible targets Snösikte had been aiming at.

  “This is really dumb!” Karl shouted, his voice torn away by the wind.

  He hit the target dead center, landing in a crouch as the platform groaned beneath his weight. The System chimed in approval.

  Hit all 7 Sacred Targets across the Chasm: 5/7

  Elf Leap (+lvl 9): Instantly teleport up to 90 meters after hitting a target with artillery. Line of sight required. Cooldown: 44 seconds. Hit 100 meters to reduce cooldown by 2s.)

  Glory (+20): 970

  Level: 31 (90/320)

  Snösikte’s head snapped around, shock flickering across his pale features. He fired reflexively.

  Karl saw the arrow coming—a flash of frost only centimeters from his mouth—then activated Urðr’s Vision.

  Time stopped.

  The world froze into silence as droplets of mist hung motionless before him. The arrow hovered in midair, its edge glinting a kiss away from his lips.

  Too close, he thought, gripping the rope with both knees as the spell burned through his remaining Stamina.

  He twisted his torso, aimed across the chasm, and fired at the second visible target.

  Hit all 7 Sacred Targets across the Chasm: 6/7

  As the arrow hit, time snapped back. Snösikte’s next shot sliced through the space where Karl’s face had been a moment ago, missing by a hair. The frost archer snarled, muttering his eerie lullaby again under his breath.

  “Sleep, little snowchild, hush your breath…”

  “You were trying to kill me!” Ratatoskr squeaked from Karl’s shoulder, his fur puffed from fear.

  “No kidding,” Karl said, scrambling up the dangling target’s ropes. His boots slipped once, but he pulled himself onto the nearest ledge just as Snösikte landed on the platform opposite him, his eyes cold and bow already drawn.

  “Distract him!” Karl shouted, boots pounding against the trembling plank bridge. Ahead, the final sacred target shimmered at the far edge of the chasm—nearly ninety meters away and blocked by a gantlet of spinning axe handles that rotated as if it were a deadly windmill. Only a perfect shot could thread through them.

  “Take this, you frostbitten child predator!” Ratatoskr screamed, pelting glowing mushrooms at Snösikte with both paws. The fungal bombs splattered against the frost archer’s trail, bursting into sticky bioluminescent slime.

  Snösikte hissed and twisted, forced to fire off rapid shots just to explode the incoming mushrooms before they hit. Each arrow left a streak of frostfire in the air, the clash of ice and fungus filling the gorge with glittering spores.

  Karl’s lungs burned as he ran. Every breath tore at his chest. The Stamina drain from Urðr’s Vision still pulsed through him, his body sluggish and unsteady. His hands trembled as he lifted the Hököga Bow again. The first arrow flew too wide. It clipped one of the spinning axe handles and ricocheted into the abyss.

  “Come on!” he growled.

  He loosed a second. It slipped through the first ring cleanly, then caught on the next. The arrow splintered. Snösikte was closing in fast behind him, his boots hissing against the frost he left in his wake.

  “He’s about to kill us!” Ratatoskr shrieked, voice cracking in genuine panic. “I’m out of shrooms!”

  Focus. Karl forced the word through his mind.

  His muscles screamed, but he planted his feet and drew back the bowstring until it quivered with tension. The Hököga’s enchantment ignited, the air filling with the scent of cinnamon. The longer he held the draw, the steadier his aim grew.

  One second. Two. Three.

  Karl exhaled and released.

  The arrow ripped through the air. It threaded every spinning axe handle and buried itself dead center in the final target across the chasm.

  The world erupted.

  Trumpets blared from nowhere, accompanied by a swirl of golden confetti that spiraled around Karl. The shockwave of the announcement knocked Snösikte backward off his feet. He tumbled onto the platform below, his bow clattering out of reach.

  Quest Completed: Knut’s Challenge

  “Congratulations, you turned a friendly archery tourney into a frost-bitten murder obstacle course and still won. Ullr is impressed. The insurance underwriters are not.”

  Primary Objectives:

  Hit all 7 Sacred Targets across the Chasm: 7/7

  Outscore every other competitor in Knut’s Archery Tournament: 1/1

  Rewards:

  Wealth (+10,000): 12,286 Gold

  Ullr’s Blessing (Rank 4/10): Charge a special arrow that detonates in a glacial explosion, dealing 500 Frost Damage in a 15-foot radius and freezing enemies for 2 seconds. Cooldown: 10 minutes.

  Strength (+10): lvl 11 (40/120)

  Stamina (+10): lvl 3 (10/40) 84/84

  Glory (+240): 1,210

  Level (+1): 32 (10/330)

  Skill Points (+1): 3

  Power flooded through Karl’s body, humming under his skin. Victory felt invigorating.

  “Uh, he’s running away!” Kara’s voice rang out. She was astride Glær, galloping across an upper bridge.

  Karl’s moment of victory was shattered as he saw the black-cloaked figure limping into the shadows above, dragging his bow behind him.

  Don’t let him get away, Fenrir snarled inside. Finish the hunt.

  Karl’s new blessing pulsed, frost light flaring in his palm. His eyes narrowed toward the retreating silhouette of Snösikte, who slithered up the other side of the chasm.

  The hunt wasn’t over yet.

  23

  SIEGE OF CONSTANTINOPLE

  Karl didn’t hesitate. He bit down on another Moon-Gilded Hoof, crunching through the glittering hoof, sending power surging through his legs. The world blurred as he crouched and launched upward, soaring in two great arcs that carried him toward Kara and Glær on the platform above.

  Ratatoskr clung to his shoulder, eyes spinning. “I think I’m going to be sick!”

  Karl landed hard beside Kara, the wood groaning under their combined weight.

  “There!” Kara shouted, her finger pointing toward the fleeing figure sprinting along the terrace edge. Snösikte, cloak whipping behind him, was running towards Visby’s outer walls.

  “Hold on!” Karl said after mounting Glær. He drew one of his cinnamon-scented arrows and fired. The shot hissed through the air and struck the ground near a pigpen far ahead before he activated Elf Leap.

  In an instant, they vanished and reappeared beside the arrow. The smell of hay filled his nose as startled pigs squealed around him.

  Behind him, Egil’s voice rang out from the upper terrace. “About half the Jarls have decided to join us! Some even want an autograph⁠—”

  “Not now!” Karl snapped as Glær chased after the frost archer.

  Glær’s hooves thundered as they raced through the fields.

  “This is definitely a trap,” the Trickster muttered, tail twitching nervously.

  He was probably right. But the alpha rage inside Karl wouldn’t let the prey escape. The frost archer had already proven lethal in a group fight, darting between allies like a phantom and killing from a distance. If he reached Viktor again, they’d all pay for it.

  Thankfully, they soon closed the distance. Snösikte glanced back once before pulling a vial from his belt and drinking it. His body shimmered, then vanished completely.

  “Coward!” Kara spat.

  Glær skidded to a halt, nostrils flaring. Karl’s pupils narrowed into slits as his Lunar Sight flared to life. The invisible archer’s trail glowed faintly in the dark, the scent of mint lingering in the air.

  “Toothpaste?” Karl muttered incredulously.

  Kara gave a confused blink. “Wait—what’s toothpaste?”

  “Something from the modern world,” Karl said through clenched teeth. “Figures he’d have that.”

  They pressed on, following the mint-scented trail through the trees. Frost clung to every branch Snösikte brushed past, a cold breadcrumb trail winding toward the heart of the woods.

  The forest broke open to reveal a circular clearing. At its center, a massive stone well loomed: Mímir’s Well. Its black waters pulsed with faint, shifting light. Above it, a gnarled tree leaned forward, its trunk carved into a solemn face that stared into the liquid below.

  “What would you like to sacrifice for knowledge?” the tree asked, its hollow voice echoing through the clearing.

  There was no one visible, but the air shimmered. Then came Snösikte’s voice. “Feeling love again.”

  Kara’s eyes widened. “He’s going to jump in the well!”

  “We can just wait till he crawls out and slit his throat then,” Ratatoskr offered casually. “Nice and efficient.”

  Karl almost agreed. It would have been easier. But Fenrir growled an important point. If he drinks from that well, he’ll come back changed. You’ve seen what divine water does to the weak like yourself.

  Karl’s jaw tightened. “No. We stop him now.”

  Glær snorted, clearly displeased with Karl’s idea.

  “Jump in,” Karl commanded.

  The elk turned its great head, giving him a glare befitting of his name. But obedience won out in the end. With one last, exasperated snort, Glær kicked off the ground.

  They leapt together, plunging into the glowing dark waters just as Snösikte’s invisible form splashed beneath the surface.

  The waters swallowed them whole.

  Just like the last two times Karl had taken on a quest for Mímir, the plunge through the well was like falling through the throat of eternity. The water thickened into shadow as all sights and sounds disappeared.

  For an endless instant, there was only the void.

  Then the world rushed back.

  Karl broke the surface, gasping, coughing up a mouthful of cold brine. His first instinct was to reach for his Abyss Pearl—the artifact that granted water breathing and double swim speed—but before he could activate it, his head breached open air.

  He almost wished it hadn’t.

  Location Discovered: Constantinople

  “Oh, this ought to be fun,” Ratatoskr muttered from atop Karl’s glowing antler helm, fur plastered wet against his face.

  Karl’s Moonlight meter pulsed up to 40 out of 100, the stress gnawing at his control.

  Chaos stretched in every direction.

  They had surfaced in a broad inlet before the most massive walled city Karl had ever seen. Marble towers gleamed through the smoke, their domes gilded with gold as the distant tolling of bells clashed with screams of war.

  And the water burned all around them.

  Dozens of Viking longships bobbed ahead, some half-submerged while others still had men firing from their decks. Two hundred ships, maybe more, crowded the inlet. The sea between them was streaked with orange light—pools of liquid fire spreading across the waves, each one hissing as it devoured the surface. The stench of oil stung Karl’s nose.

  “Greek fire,” he breathed, his voice barely audible above the din.

  Closer to the shore, stone seawalls bristled with defenders. Byzantine archers loosed volleys in perfect rhythm, and iron tubes mounted along the parapets unleashed more jets of fire, each stream arcing downward in blinding sheets.

  Farther inland, a towering ceremonial gate of marble and brass stood defiant amid the chaos. Its surface shimmered gold under the sunrise, even as the Vikings pounded against it with their rams.

  New Quest: Siege of Constantinople, 860 AD

  “Welcome to the greatest city on Earth—and the worst vacation spot for anyone allergic to boiling oil. The Rus fleet has arrived with 200 longships, the Byzantines are screaming prayers, and the air reeks of Greek fire. Choose your side: defend the city of God, or join the Vikings trying to sack it. Either way, try not to melt.”

  Primary Objective:

  Defend Constantinople from the Rus invaders (0/1)

  Rewards:

  Request one enchantment from Mímir’s Well.

  Honor: +300

  Optional Objective:

  Lead the Rus assault and breach the Golden Gate (0/1)

  Bonus Reward:

  Request one enchantment from Mímir’s Well.

  Item: Greek Fire Mixture (Legendary)

  Honor: –300

  Kara surfaced beside him, Glær snorting hard as he paddled through the burning slick. Her eyes widened in horror as she took in the sight of the floating battlefield. “Gods above…”

  “Are we going to let him get away?” Ratatoskr shouted, pointing his tail toward Snösikte scrambling up the hull of an overturned longship.

  Karl was about to answer when three arrows struck the water in front of him, close enough to splash oil against his chest. He spat, gagging on the acrid taste. Both Byzantines and Vikings were now aiming for the same bright targets—two glowing antlered figures in the middle of a warzone.

  “Grab on!” Karl barked.

  He raised his bow above the waterline, kicking his legs to hold himself up as he drew and fired toward the underside of the capsized ship where Snösikte perched. The arrow struck, embedding deep into the wood as he activated Elf Leap.

  They vanished from the water an instant before a wave of Greek fire cascaded down, setting the entire surface ablaze.

  They reappeared atop the overturned hull. Karl’s Moonlight Meter spiked from 40 to 70, the adrenaline pulsing through his veins.

  Good, the wolf god rumbled, amused. Get him.

  Karl clenched his bow tighter, eyes fixed on the Ullr-blessed archer darting between the flames ahead.

  And through the burning haze of history itself, the chase resumed.

  Snösikte’s cloak whipped behind him like a black banner as he turned on the deck, bowstring drawn taut. The arrow he loosed sang through the smoke toward Karl and Kara—but before it could strike, Kara swept it aside with her Baldr-blessed sword, the blade flaring with runic fire. She followed up with a Baldr beam of light, which nearly clipped Snösikte’s feet.

  Now four distinct lights blazed amid the chaos—Kara’s flaming sword and light beams, along with Karl’s and Glær’s glowing antlers—painting them as perfect targets for both Viking and Byzantine alike.

  Karl didn’t care.

  He retaliated instantly, loosing a volley of parsley-scented arrows from his Hököga Bow. They blurred into a green streak, one striking Snösikte dead in the chest with a satisfying thunk.

  But the victory was short-lived.

  The arrow shattered into a burst of white shards before it could pierce his flesh. The frost archer smirked, brushing ice crystals from his tunic.

  “Magically reinforced,” Karl muttered through gritted teeth. Yet the glittering shards gave him an idea.

  Snösikte cocked his head, humming his eerie lullaby again, voice carrying above the war’s roar. “Sleep, little snowchild, hush your breath…”

  Karl drew a deep breath, channeling his Ullr’s Blessing. The bow pulsed blue-white in his grip, veins of frost crawling along the wood. When he released the arrow, the air cracked. It screamed across the sea, trailing mist.

  Had it hit, it would have killed Snösikte instantly.

  But Snösikte was too fast. He spun aside, boots skidding across the ice he himself conjured. The arrow grazed the space where he’d been a second before.

  Karl cursed. His Glacial Arrow continued its flight and struck the burning water between two ships.

  The sea erupted into ice.

  A fifteen-foot radius of frozen waves expanded outward, snuffing out the fires in an instant and locking shattered timbers mid-motion.

  Moonlight Meter: 90/100

  “Thanks!” Snösikte shouted mockingly. His voice bounced across the ice as he sprinted down the new frozen path, moving faster than ever on his own enchanted terrain. His feet barely touched the surface as he leapt onto an upright longship, vanishing among the crew.

  Karl was still staring when a new arrow grazed his shoulder, slicing through armor plating. Hot pain burned through him. His Moonlight Meter spiked.

  Moonlight Meter: 100/100

  “Karl, no!” Kara’s voice tore through the chaos as the transformation hit.

  YES, Fenrir roared from inside his skull. Unleash me!

  Karl’s body convulsed as he became a beast. His snarl drowned out the battle cries around him.

  Ratatoskr, still clinging to his shoulder, shouted, “This is a very terrifying experience!”

  Karl didn’t answer. He launched himself onto the ice with explosive force, his claws digging deep grooves into the frost. In one bound, he leapt from the frozen path to the upright longship.

  The deck erupted into panic at his arrival.

  Karl landed like a meteor, the impact shaking the hull. He didn’t need Moonfang Strike or any rune technique, as his raw power was enough. His claws tore through them with hardly any effort. The Vikings that survived his initial swipes screamed as they were thrown overboard into boiling water, their armor sizzling on contact.

  Alpha Path: lvl 5 (140/150 Reiði)