[Book of Experience: Lorewalker Zhou Zhuo]
[Experience Level: BOSS]
Zhou Zhuo?
How could it be him?
As one of the most famous pandaren in World of Warcraft, Lorewalker Zhou Zhuo was well-known even in the realm of Asgardian players. Lorewalker Zhou Zhuo's stories were legendary, and Rowe had naturally heard of him. After all, he was often jokingly nicknamed "The Eighth Sha of Pandaria, the Sha of Inferiority," due to the countless stories surrounding his self-doubt and trials.
However, to find that this mythical character was actually the opponent in a trial was truly unexpected.
What struck Rowe even more was Zhou Zhuo's listed level—"BOSS"—without a numerical value. That was something he had never encountered before. It was odd, ambiguous, and added a level of mystery to the already bizarre experience.
But soon, his attention shifted to another item that had dropped.
[Forging Blueprint: Conn the Beheader]
[Conn the Beheader]
[Type: Battle Axe]
[Standard Item Level: Level 6]
[Main Materials: Dark Iron, Wild Blood, Azeroth Diamond]
Conn the Beheader!
Seeing the name sent a jolt of recognition through Rowe.
The Beheader Conn was a legendary early-game purple weapon from the ancient era. It was renowned for its overwhelming damage and wide popularity among early adventurers.
Its classification as a Level 6 item placed it on par with the Aojin Axe. But Rowe knew better—holy deed rankings could span wide gaps, and even items in the same level could vary greatly in power. Based on his game knowledge, Rowe felt that Conn the Beheader was probably a notch below the Aojin Axe.
This assumption was supported by its listed materials.
The Aojin Axe was forged from Arcanite, one of the top-tier metals in World of Warcraft. In this world, Rowe had long speculated that the substitute for Arcanite would have to be something incredibly rare and powerful, like Vibranium or Uru. And that had proven to be correct—Uru, in particular, had once been identified as providing a 144% efficiency replacement for Arcanite. While superior in performance, it was still within the same class.
Conn the Beheader, on the other hand, used black iron as its core material. It was supported by rare ingredients like Wild Blood and Azeroth Diamond, but clearly, black iron was the foundation.
Though inferior to Arcanite, black iron was still a very viable material—much more attainable in the universe than Vibranium or Uru.
Rowe pondered the implications. Perhaps Conn the Beheader could serve as a suitable next-stage weapon for him, at least until he could forge something even greater.
After leaving the experience realm, Rowe resumed his day at the herbal shop, crafting and selling potions. As always, he had lunch at the Brave Hunter Tavern.
As the once-in-a-century Asgardian event—the Hunting Festival—drew near, the tavern was becoming increasingly lively. Conversations were always buzzing with excitement about upcoming hunts and past glories.
"What? Tialfi caught the four-horned goat?"
"Where have you been? That's old news already!"
"What's Tialfi up to now?"
"Practicing swordplay and archery like mad. Probably aiming to bag a big beast in Nornheim…"
Tialfi's name echoed throughout the tavern.
"Remember the last festival when Balder caught that thunder dragon? With real lightning wings!"
"And didn't he also win the heart of Karnira, Duke Norn's daughter?"
"Yeah."
"I saw Karnira once—man, you wouldn't believe how big her… well…"
Rowe silently ate his lamb chops until a familiar hand clapped him on the shoulder.
"Hey, Rowe."
He turned and saw a lean, sharp-eyed young man sliding into the seat beside him.
"Heimd! What are you doing here?"
It was Heimd, the son of Heimdall.
Heimd smiled. "Came to the Hunter Tavern to soak in the Hunting Festival energy. I heard you're in Her Highness Hela's hunting party?"
"You too?" Rowe raised an eyebrow.
Heimd nodded. "My father serves Lord Odin, so naturally I follow Hela. But to be honest, I've never really liked the Hunting Festival."
"Why not? Your divine gift is practically made for it," Rowe replied with a grin. "Even dragons couldn't outrun you. You could catch up in a flash and slice their throats a thousand times before they blink."
"Too much starting and stopping. Annoying, really. If speed alone made me the greatest warrior, I'd already be the champion of Asgard—no, the entire universe," Heimd chuckled.
They shared a long conversation, trading stories and mock jabs. When Rowe returned home, the sky was already dimming.
Outside his herbal shop stood a golden-armored warrior, tall and broad-shouldered, exuding the unmistakable aura of a Heroic Spirit.
"Rowe of the Garrison?" the warrior asked impatiently, clearly having waited a while.
"That's me," Rowe replied, stepping forward, his heart quickening with expectation.
"The Hunting Festival begins in three days. Be at the Rainbow Bridge by noon. Lord Ullr will transport the participants to Nornheim. Be ready," the warrior said curtly.
"Understood. Thank you." Rowe nodded.
Three days flew by.
Rowe methodically packed everything he needed—his weaponry including Verigan's Fist, the Staff of Arcane Flames, and the Ice Shaper's Longbow—all stored within his Sanctuary space. He included a broad selection of potions: Healing Stones, Chilling Elixirs, Swiftness Draughts, and provisions like food and water.
Still, even after years of searching, he had found no substitute for Sungrass. Thus, the Agility Potion remained an elusive dream.
Once ready, he locked up the shop and made his way toward the Rainbow Bridge.
Sure enough, he ran into Tialfi en route, his rugged figure bristling with weapons—a massive blade at his hip and a longbow slung over his back.
They chatted briefly before joining the other participants gathering at the teleportation hall. When all were assembled, Ullr activated the Rainbow Bridge and transported them to Nornheim.
"Welcome to Nornheim, brave warriors."
The greeting was cool and feminine. Rowe looked up to see a regal woman in a long purple dress approaching with several attendants.
Her features were exquisite, framed by a crystal crown. The sleek purple fabric of her dress accentuated a gracefully contoured figure, the peaks of her chest drawing subtle attention.
Most of the competitors were male, and many stood dumbstruck at her presence.
She showed no reaction and continued with a calm tone: "I am Karnira, daughter of the Duke. On behalf of Nornheim and my mother, I welcome you."
"Your accommodations have been arranged at the golden building to the east. You may rest there before the festival begins. Or, if you prefer, you're free to find other lodging."
As Karnira spoke, something flickered in Rowe's peripheral vision.
He turned—and was startled to see a familiar figure waving at him from among Karnira's entourage.
A woman in a long blue dress, radiating a gentle warmth, was biting her lip and waving excitedly at him.
Rowe blinked in shock. "El?"
It could be no one else. It was indeed his cousin—El.
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