Pillar of Yita

In a daze, Fang Hong saw a campfire.

The firelight was filled with dry branches, resting on the forest floor. The branches melted, leaves curled, turning into specks of starlight, dancing in the heat and rising to the night sky. The night sky—he finally awoke, groggily looking around.

A campfire, with some snow cleared away or already melted. Above, a broken tree branch formed a simple shelter with pine-like branches, casting a somber glow in the firelight. Outside, the forest was pitch dark, seemingly snowing, and the falling snow rustled quietly.

On the other side, there was a massive rock. A man sat beside it, leaning against the rock with one leg stretched out and the other bent under him. On his thigh lay a great sword, one hand resting on the knee, the other holding the sword hilt.

The man tilted his head slightly, looking at him, eyes reflecting the faint flames, but he neither spoke nor moved.

Fang Hong suddenly recalled what had happened earlier and sat up abruptly, looking at the King of Warriors. But Odin showed no reaction. Fang Hong began to look around in confusion, finding himself in an unfamiliar forest, unsure of his location.

He felt perplexed for a moment, wondering why the man hadn’t killed him, which could be understood as trying to find out the location of the Duke’s young son. But why bring him here? This place did not seem like a Ragnarok camp, absent of distant firelight, and he thought Ragnarok was stationed inside the city.

Could this actually be somewhere in Dulun? Fang Hong raised his head, but saw no spires of the Holy Sanctuary in the distance, and the southern Kudi Mountain Range seemed too close. This area seemed to be situated in the hills south of Dulun.

He turned back, bewildered as he looked at the man, unsure of his intentions. However, if the King of Warriors asked about the Duke’s young son’s whereabouts, he had promised Great God Ye Hua he would never disclose it.

Just hoping the nearest Resurrection Temple wasn’t too far.

Yet Odin remained silent, simply looking at him.

This made Fang Hong uncomfortable, unable to understand what the man was plotting, feeling somewhat terrified. Finally, he couldn’t stand being stared at and weakly protested: ”I—I don’t know anything.”

”Oh.”

Fang Hong was taken aback, sensing a feeling of inadvertently giving himself away, hastily corrected himself: ”According to the Stargate Declaration, Mr. Odin, the Invoker cannot limit another Invoker’s freedom. Of course, neither can the natives.”

He intentionally mentioned the man’s name, indicating he knew the man’s identity.

”I haven’t restricted your freedom,” Odin finally replied, voice calm and smooth: ”Outside, it’s minus seventeen degrees, your map, provisions, and compass are with me. There are Level 25 Rat People lurking in the forest, in winter they’re all very hungry, and a blizzard will arrive in three hours—”

Finally, he added: ”Alright, you can leave now.”

Fang Hong stood up, then sat back down upon hearing this.

Not being a fool, he certainly wouldn’t ask why the man confiscated his map and compass; they were spoils of war. The Stargate Declaration didn’t prohibit this. Of course, he could opt for death, but if survival was possible, who would choose death?

”I could commit suicide.” He thought this but didn’t utter a word of retreat.

Odin pulled out a small knife from his pocket and tossed it over.

Seeing this, Fang Hong’s expression turned dark as he reluctantly picked up the knife, pretending to aim it at his chest—yet fearing death, ultimately he gave up.

He then raised his head, stared fixedly at the man, seemingly trying to discern what the King of Warriors was up to. But just at that moment, a Light Page suddenly popped before his eyes: ”’Odin’ invites you to join the ’Ragnarok’ Guild.”

Yes or no?

Fang Hong was startled, nearly tapped the wrong button. He raised his head to look at the man, puzzled by what was going on.

Of course, without hesitation, he chose to refuse. The minute he had just refused, the Light Page popped up again: ”’Odin’ invites you to join the ’Ragnarok’ Guild.” Again? Fang Hong was slightly taken aback, but his temper rose—he simply wouldn’t join.

After refusing again, the Light Page reappeared. This repeated four or five times before the Light Page finally stopped appearing.

After the last send, Odin just looked at him, still silent.

The two fell into a standoff, the air somewhat silent, the only sound between the falling snow seemed to be the crackling of the campfire.

Yet Fang Hong roughly figured out that this god wasn’t here for the Duke’s young son, and as for the man’s intentions, he had some vague guesses. But at this juncture, feigning ignorance was undoubtedly the best choice.

After all, I don’t know anything—Fang Hong self-hypnotized.

Odin glanced at him, seemingly unsurprised.

He remained silent for a moment, then suddenly took out something and tossed it over. The object drew an arc, flew over the campfire, and landed at Fang Hong’s feet, rolling twice. Fang Hong looked down to find it was a Clockwork Fairy, with copper shell gleaming warmly in the firelight.

Wasn’t this man a warrior? Why would he carry such a thing? Fang Hong was startled, but then he saw Odin point at the Clockwork Fairy, gesturing for him to pick it up—only upon picking up the Clockwork Fairy and inspecting it did he realize it was his own.

Fang Hong was shocked and hurriedly felt his chest, discovering the Black Crystal was long gone. He couldn’t help but feel despair; this god was utterly unreasonable, taking everything from him.