After all the day's tossing, the time had quietly drifted into night.
Luo Wei cautiously observed his surroundings for a moment. Once he confirmed that the four-horned goat had not returned, he slipped through the island crevice and swam back to his hidden residence.
Before going to sleep, as was his nightly routine, he opened the holy deed, exchanging a portion of his piety for the unpredictable gifts of fate.
He received [Thank You for Your Patronage], then [Book of Experience: Dire Wolf]… followed by [Devotion +0.19], and—unexpectedly—[Blessing of Kings (Shard)].
King's Blessing!
> [King's Blessing: Bestows the recipient with the King's Blessing for ten minutes. During this time, the target's strength and defense are greatly increased, and the potency of Holy Light spells is significantly enhanced.]
This outcome surprised Rowe. Over the years, he had accumulated many spell fragments on the third floor of the temple—especially dozens for Hammer of Justice. But this particular spell, King's Blessing, had remained elusive all this time. The probability of obtaining it seemed shockingly low.
And yet, its effect was immense. It enhanced one's overall combat power with zero side effects. In the heat of battle, it could easily be a decisive, life-saving trump card—almost on par with a divine technique.
The night passed in silence.
The following morning, Luo Wei completed his routine and activated the Book of Experience, entering the Dire Wolf's trial space.
A massive white wolf appeared before him, its claws gleaming dangerously and its breath thick with the bloodlust of a seasoned predator. Faint twilight filled the surrounding forest, possibly part of the twilight woods it inhabited.
"Owww—!" The Dire Wolf howled and charged forward.
Luo Wei's expression didn't waver. He swung his warhammer and met the beast head-on.
The Dire Wolf was merely a third-level monster—not magical, just abnormally large and powerful. It had no advanced skills, only raw strength and ferocity. For Rowe, dealing with it wasn't a real challenge.
After a short exchange, he blasted the Dire Wolf with a bolt of Holy Light. The beast's body exploded into shimmering fragments, and from the air, a page of experience slowly drifted to the ground.
Rowe picked it up and examined it.
> Gained [Piety +15.28]
Gained [Book of Experience: Wolf King Lubos]
Wolf King Lubos (Rare)
Experience Level: 4
A rare level-4 creature.
Rowe's memories stirred—he knew Lubos. For a time, Lubos was even tamed as a pet by hunters. Its most fearsome attribute was its shadow attack, capable of bypassing armor entirely with sharp, unrelenting strikes.
In the system of Shengqi's combat rankings, level gaps meant a lot. For Rowe, level-3 monsters weren't difficult anymore. But level-4 enemies? They demanded repeated attempts and time before he could reliably beat them.
As for Boss Hogg, Rowe hadn't bested him yet. That fact alone led him to wonder if Hogg was truly just an ordinary boss—perhaps he wasn't the one who was soloed by his cousin after all.
Given all that, Rowe decided to skip any new trials today. He exited the experience space and focused instead on his daily work at the herbal shop.
Although the number of overweight and balding individuals in Asgard had decreased drastically, sales at Azeroth Herbal Shop had thinned out. Yet, thanks to the shop's reputation—especially for diet pills and hair restorers—customers still arrived in modest numbers.
Rowe had considered hiring help, but Asgardians were typically self-reliant. Most craftsmen produced for their households alone, and the art of herbal medicine required considerable training. Finding a qualified assistant was easier said than done.
Besides, most of the shop's revenue came from its top-selling items. The profits from general medicine were slim and served more to support Rowe's pharmaceutical practice than to generate income. It was manageable alone.
After a busy morning, Rowe visited the Brave Hunter Tavern.
Tialfi had returned, and as luck would have it, Rowe met him just as he was about to enter.
He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Where were you yesterday?"
"Family matter," Tialfi replied simply, not elaborating.
Rowe grinned. "You won't believe it. The day you left, I ran into a four-horned goat in the forest. I'm starting to believe fate really has cursed you."
Tialfi's eyes widened in disbelief. "Did you catch it?!"
Rowe shook his head. "No… That's the irony. I saw it, but I couldn't handle it alone."
Tialfi let out a relieved breath.
"But I've decided," Rowe continued. "I'm not entering this year's Hunting Festival."
"Why not?"
"Every hunter who participates is elite. Many of them can capture a four-horned goat solo. Even if I joined, I doubt I'd make it far."
The Asgardian Hunting Festival, held once every century, only welcomed the strongest. Of the few dozen who qualified, many were warriors capable of slaying dragons single-handedly.
There were still years before the next festival, but Rowe doubted another four-horned goat would appear within that time. And with competition that fierce, he didn't want to waste energy chasing an unrealistic goal.
Besides, with the discovery of the space tetrahedron, he'd be much busier. Moving between realms took up a lot more time.
Tialfi nodded. "Will you still come to the tavern though?"
"Of course. I need lunch," Rowe said casually.
He didn't like cooking. Breakfast and dinner were simple affairs, but if he wanted a real meal, the tavern was the best place—meat, drink, and company.
After catching up with Tialfi for a bit, Rowe finished his lunch and set off again.
He followed a secret trail along the edge of the forest, eventually reaching the Sea of Marmora. He dove into the sea and swam through the crevice of the small island he discovered the day before.
Today, his destination was Svartalfheim—the realm of the Dark Elves.
The familiar floating space tetrahedron hovered silently, pulsing with soft, mysterious light. Its surface shimmered faintly as he approached.
Rowe located the side that corresponded to Svartalfheim. It was the one that, from outside, appeared to lead to nothing—only an empty void and a pale moon.
He stepped through.
Darkness.
That was his first impression upon entering Svartalfheim.
Once home to the Dark Elves, Svartalfheim had once possessed a sun of its own. But eons ago, the star had nearly gone out. Now, it was a dead world where light itself had been exiled.
Rowe immediately summoned the Holy Light Illumination Spell, lighting his surroundings with a soft, divine glow.
According to Asgard's official records, the Dark Elves had been wiped out long ago in war. Svartalfheim was nothing more than a husk now.
But Rowe knew better. A small remnant led by Malekith still lingered, hiding somewhere in the stars, waiting for the next Convergence of Celestial Bodies.
Still, that didn't change the fact—Svartalfheim was a wasteland.
Unlike the hidden exits of other tetrahedron realms, the one here was simple—a cavern. After a short walk, Rowe emerged on the surface.
He raised his light higher and looked around.
As expected… desolation.
No voices. No life. Just ruins and crumbling stone. It was like a lunar graveyard—though even the moon offered views of the sun and the blue Earth. Here, nothing moved. Nothing shined. Not even a whisper of wind.
This was Svartalfheim.
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