Book 1 – Rebirth of the Fire God
Chapter 1 – Number 29 Eden Street
Before I came to the imperial capital, people around me said Loki is still alive, but Odin had died.
Because a world with Odin would not look like this.
The radiance of the God of Light will shine together with the night. Therefore, Vanaheim’s night sky has always been like a huge dark blue curtain, with stars and sand interwoven into the Milky Way, showcasing a unique, transparent beauty.
People who have been to the realm of gods say that the night sky there is always dark, whether the God of light is there or not, whether the temple of the spirit is climbing golden vines, whether the sky is inlaid with bright stars… It’s always black.
Because Odin has dark hair and his eyes are the most profound black gems of the world.
In that bygone era, the divine world was his home.
He has only one eye to see the world, but it contained the radiance of the entire sky.
At the same time, only one woman existed in his gaze for the entirety of his life.
—— Of course, these were romantic legends inscribed in books, they did not come from the pressure of this city to find inspiration, and most certainly not from Shiah’s mouth.
Because in Shiah’s eyes, romance meant a man’s teary face and a woman’s mocking laugh.
I used to tell her, besides your appearance, you are just like a man, you are fickle, indifferent, emotionally-stunted, full of lies, and even makes guys cry. She took it as a compliment and even proudly thanked me.
That night, I was still lying in bed, looking at the dark blue sky, forced to listen to the couple downstairs bicker over the most inconsequential of affairs:
“Why are you so bothered about a mere three thousand Vaders. You are so snobbish. Are you staying with me because of my money or because of me as a person?”
“I am snobbish? Back when I had a magic instructor pursuing me, I didn’t choose him but instead chose you who was simply a young priest. If I wanted to marry wealth, I would have long done so! Or else why would I choose to suffer with you?”
“And here you are looking down on my profession. I’ll tell you this, every field has its leaders. Don’t just look at the wealth ranking and think a magic instructor is all that because everyone there is a magic instructor. That’s no good. Freyr is still a high priest. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with priests.”
“The problem is that Freyr is one of the twelve gods. What are you?”
“And you’re of an elf’s blood. What are you saying about me again?”
“You say that I look down on your profession but here you are discriminating against my race! To you pureness of the blood is all that matters, huh! Since you find that little alchemist vixen so interesting, go to her! Bon Voyage! Let us break up! “
“How did it come back to me again? Didn’t I say that she and I have nothing going on. Hey, come back! Hey, don’t go ——”
I kept rolling around on my bed, trying to fall asleep but unable to do so because their voices were so loud. Listening to the woman’s shrewish voice screaming “your kind only likes empty-headed, big-breasted bimbos like Shiah!,” I finally couldn’t stand it any longer and flung aside the curtains; opening the window, I threw out Shiah’s recently placed blue-rose perfume.
The noise ceased and the world quieted.
I shoved my head inside the covers and soon fell asleep.
Later I had a dream. In my dream, I went back to the moment before I threw out the bottle. I retracted my hand, opened the window and told the woman downstairs very seriously, ‘in fact, Miss, you made a mistake. Men think that Shiah’s breasts are big only because she says they are. But in fact, her chest is not big at all. But it’s true that she has no brain.’ After I finished saying that, the woman’s hair suddenly turned golden, and Shiah’s pale, twisted face appeared in front of me.
It was definitely the most terrifying dream of the year.
But the next day I realized that reality was much more terrifying than dreams and that you can’t have your cake and eat it too.
If there is anything in the world more horrible than the screaming of a girl, it is the scream of two girls. If there’s anything more horrible than the screaming of two girls, it could only be Shiah’s shrill scream.
When I was dragged out of the blanket by Shia, my shoulders swaying back and forth by her harsh wringing, forced to listen to her scream; I hated that I couldn’t be more like the monsters of Æsir, instantly summoning Ginnungagap and jumping in without hesitation to kill myself.
* The gap between Niflheim’s frozen land and the fiery land of Muspelheim, where there are no living creatures.
Shiah’s scream continued for about half an hour before she finally lost it. With trembling hands she gingerly clasped a pile of broken blue glass, and said grittingly, the words coming out muffled:
“Do you know how much time and effort it took my sister to obtain this perfume?”
“I don’t know.”
And I don’t want to know.
As a person, Shiah this girl is quite successful, but as a woman, she is full of flaws. Every time I see a pile of wailing guys lining up outside our house, then turn to see Shiah apathetically painting her nails, I would hatefully wish to exterminate her on behalf of all the girls of this world.
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