Chapter 102: Departure

The king sat on the throne in the great hall, looking down over the entire hall.

Is this the pinnacle of power? But it's meaningless stuff; he recalled the joy he once had as a prince, yet he could not abandon his position.

"Your Majesty! The Red-clothed Devil..." the soldier didn't dare continue, looking at the king's expression; the king's face was weary, looking utterly exhausted.

"Speak on!" the king said, holding his head with his hand.

"Yes! The Red-clothed Devil, he's covered in blood! It seems he's performing some dark arts!" the soldier said, his voice trembling, to the king.

"Go on, I understand." the king waved his hand, signaling the soldier to leave, then summoned Yang Xin.

Yang Xin stood before the king, seeing the king's weary face, and asked, "Your Majesty, what's going on?"

The king didn't answer, just casually found an excuse to brush it off, then asked Yang Xin, "Hey, what's the Red-clothed Devil up to? Hanging himself is bad enough, but he's covered in blood! This will trouble the soldiers!"

Yang Xin thought for a moment, then said to the king, "Your Majesty, there's no need to worry; the Red-clothed Devil is preparing for our nation's victory!"

Hearing that, the king was bewildered. Preparing for victory? Yet why does he have to cover his own body in blood? What is this?

The king still asked Yang Xin, "Victory? I know our magic potions are indeed made by him, but the ingredients are dwarves!"

Listening to the king's words, Yang Xin shook his head, then lifted his head and faced the king, saying, "Your Majesty, you're quite right; if we're only dealing with dwarves, the magic potions would suffice. But to face adventurers, especially Feng Yan, we need something else."

The king understood something, then said thoughtfully, "So the Red-clothed Devil hanging his body on that tree is meant as a sacrifice?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, through sacrificing to the World Tree to gain the greatest power, but the Red-clothed Devil—we don't know what he sacrificed, nor what price he paid!" Yang Xin replied respectfully.

"The price?" the king pondered, then gestured for Yang Xin to leave, and closed the palace doors.

Yang Xin was summoned by the king every day; he knew the king very much wanted to attack Feng Yan and his group, but he clearly understood that relying solely on those strengthening potions was utterly impossible.

But what else would the Red-clothed Devil do? Yang Xin found it strange; even if it were a sacrifice, there needed to be an offering—could it be! Yang Xin seemed to have guessed something; the more he thought, the more fearful he became, preparing to go to the World Tree.

But Wang Tingwan walked in front of him and blocked his way.

"Don't go!" Wang Tingwan uttered two words, firm and icy.

"Why?" Yang Xin asked, finding himself increasingly unable to understand Wang Tingwan.

Wang Tingwan clenched her heart-wounded, gazing at her lips, after a long while she slowly replied, "I still don't want to see you and him engage in conflict and strife."

Yang Xin felt reluctant, but eventually compromised; he didn't go look for the Red-clothed Devil, instead he went with Wang Tingwan and returned to the Prince's residence.

And the Red-clothed Devil had already been completely enveloped by the branches of the World Tree.

In his own dream, he found himself in a darkness, while below lay an abyss.

The Red-clothed Devil opened his eyes, gazing at the bottomless abyss, staring, and from within the abyss came a voice.

I witnessed the death of the gods

A valley of wildflowers

Fenrir's fangs

Chewing the bodies of the gods

The wind from afar blew by

Bringing winds from even farther away

I returned all to the grasslands

My eyes shed tears

Yet there were no tears

Alone, I rode across the grasslands

"What is this?" the Red-clothed Devil felt strange, simultaneously sensing something off; he looked around and saw a huge eagle had appeared, its sharp eyes fixed on him.

A cold sweat broke out on the Red-clothed Devil's body; he certainly recognized this—it was Odin's shoulder raven, named Mist.

"Well, well, you actually came here!" the Red-clothed Devil, not wanting to give it a chance to escape, strained to break free of the branches, but they only grew tighter.

In the end, he could only watch helplessly as the raven flew away.

The Red-clothed Devil was unwilling; knowing his body was being bound ever tighter, he felt increasingly tormented, nearly suffocating, the sensation of being on the brink of death.

"What exactly must I still offer you?" the Red-clothed Devil asked, bewildered.

However, the abyss gave no reply.

The raven flew back to Odin's shoulder, recounting what it had seen. And Odin, seemingly understanding something, drew a mysterious rune in the air, using it together with a six-pointed star formation.

The formation emitted a faint blue light, then gradually faded as the rune was activated; Odin nodded, understanding what had happened afterward.

"Everything is an issue I cannot change," Odin said, dispelling the magic formation.