After Karnira finished speaking, the crowd dispersed, and Rowe quickly made his way to El's side.
"Rovey!" El greeted him with a bright smile, and the two embraced warmly.
After a moment, they pulled apart, and El asked curiously, "Why did you come to the Hunting Festival? Don't tell me you actually managed to catch a four-horned goat?"
Rowe chuckled, then replied, "I was transferred to Jotunheim. Princess Hela thought I performed well, so she recommended me to participate in the Hunting Festival."
"Jotunheim?" El's eyes widened in shock, followed by a scolding tone. "I told you Jotunheim is extremely dangerous! Why did you go there anyway?"
"I stayed at the Jotunheim outpost for two days… Then the battle broke out. It was intense, and I left," Rowe said, his voice laced with guilt.
He wasn't lying—he truly had stayed at the outpost for two days. But after it was overrun by Frost Giants and completely destroyed, he had no choice but to retreat and wander across Jotunheim's harsh landscape.
El's expression softened slightly with relief, but she narrowed her eyes and asked, "Didn't you just say that Her Highness Hela thinks highly of you? How did you impress anyone in just two days?"
"Uh… yeah. Mainly because I'm a healer. Everyone assumed I couldn't fight. So when I actually did, it surprised them," Rowe answered quickly, forcing a smile.
El gave him a suspicious look but chose not to press the matter further. Instead, she gently touched his face. "Don't take such reckless risks again, alright?"
Rowe dodged her concerned gaze and grinned. "Sister, you're as beautiful as ever."
She rolled her eyes, giving him a light smack on the shoulder, looking a little embarrassed. "Come on, now that you're in Nornheim, stay with me."
She dragged Rowe along, and after a short walk through Nornheim's ethereal streets, they arrived at a small but elegant courtyard. Inside, El pushed open a door. "This is your room."
Rowe stepped in and looked around, quietly marveling at the luxury. The room was spacious and finely decorated with carved stone, enchanted sculptures, and mystical lighting—worthy of nobility. As the apprentice of Duchess Norn, El clearly lived in regal conditions.
El spoke a bit more before finally saying, "I still have coursework to finish. Get some rest. I'll see you later."
With that, she exited, leaving Rowe alone in the lavish room.
Rowe sat in silence, then suddenly remembered the Book of Experience left behind by Lorewalker Zhou Zhuo. Curiosity stirred in his chest—how did Zhou Zhuo, a scholar, end up with an entry titled "Challenging the Law"?
He retrieved the sacred text, turned to [Book of Experience: Lorewalker Zhou Zhuo], and activated the entry.
The world flickered around him, and he found himself in a dark, hazy scene.
This didn't feel right. Wasn't Zhou Zhuo supposed to be a scholar? Why was the environment so grim and ominous?
Before Rowe could ponder further, a flickering light caught his eye. Not far away, a pudgy Pandaren figure squatted beside a lamp, tinkering with something.
Zhou Zhuo?
Rowe crept closer and confirmed—the fluffy figure was indeed the Lorewalker, adorned in robes with a scholarly sash and scrolls. A curious aura surrounded him.
Should he approach? Maybe talk?
Or knock him out with the Fist of Verrigan?
Rowe gripped his hammer and hesitated.
Just then, Zhou Zhuo muttered, "Oh, what does this button do? Let's try it—"
Rowe's instincts screamed at him.
Click.
A soft sound echoed, like a mechanism had been triggered.
BOOM—
The ground began to quake, tremors shaking the space violently. In front of them, a glowing crevice began to split the terrain as a titanic doorway slowly opened.
A searing wind burst from the fissure.
Zhou Zhuo peeked at the door and immediately turned to flee. As he ran past Rowe, he shouted, "I leave it to you, brave warrior! I'll go get help! Hold on!"
He vanished in a blur, faster than anyone Rowe had ever seen.
Rowe: "…"
BOOM—
The doors fully opened. The scene behind them seared itself into Rowe's memory.
A vast sea of molten magma surged before him. Heat poured forth in waves, warping the air. Towering above the magma stood a colossal being—its form wreathed in fire, its presence overwhelming.
His lower body merged with the lava, while his upper body resembled a horned demon. Flames roared from his form, and his very being radiated raw destruction.
"The Flame Demon King…" Rowe whispered, shaken.
This was no mere elemental. It was Ragnaros, the Firelord—one of the four Elemental Lords, the embodiment of fire and destruction in the Marvel cosmology of realms tied to Muspelheim.
He wielded the legendary artifact Sulfuron Hammer, known also as the Hand of Ragnaros, a weapon forged in primordial fire.
Ragnaros spotted Rowe, and his thunderous voice boomed: "Mortal! Did you dare awaken me?!"
"Yes… it was Zhou Zhuo," Rowe stammered, unable to stop the trembling in his limbs.
"Foolish mortal, you shall pay for your insolence!" Ragnaros declared, raising the hammer high.
Rowe couldn't even respond.
"Let the flames purify all!" the Flame Lord roared, and a pillar of fire erupted toward the heavens, engulfing all.
Before the flames consumed him, Rowe felt his vision twist—and he was instantly yanked back to the real world.
He gasped, sweat beading his forehead.
"By the Nine Realms… Zhou Zhuo's insane! And starting with a boss-level threat like Ragnaros?!"
Rowe shook his head. He doubted he could beat Ragnaros even after another three millennia of training. Best to shelve that experience page for now.
The fiery image of the Flame Lord lingered in his mind. Even Surtur, the King of the Fire Giants, couldn't have been more terrifying at his peak.
Shaking off the tension, Rowe decided to make use of his time and headed to El's alchemy lab.
El's workshop was expansive, far more sophisticated than the herbal shop Rowe had back in the sanctum. The tools were state-of-the-art by Asgardian standards—enchanted mortars, celestial crystal vials, and even rune-inscribed distillers.
Dozens of herbs lined the walls, many rare and exotic. Rowe's eyes widened with curiosity. Perhaps there was something among these that could replace Sungrass, a crucial component for advanced healing potions.
He spent the next several hours carefully identifying and cataloging the herbs, analyzing their potential reactions and magical properties.
Before he realized it, evening had arrived.
He heard voices from outside and moved to open the door.
El stood there, smiling warmly—and beside her stood a refined woman with long golden hair, dressed in elegant royal attire, her presence regal and calming.
Rowe looked to El for an introduction.
El beamed. "Rowe, this is Sister Frigga—the daughter of Duke Norn."
Rowe's eyes widened slightly. Frigga? So she's of royal lineage… and possibly more than that.
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