"Scenario: Fate/Grand Order - The Eternal Frozen Flame Century: Ragnarök."
"Activate Clear Condition: Defeat Surtr."
Crossing worlds was no longer a first-time experience. Just like before, there was no memory retained of the journey between worlds—those magnificent vistas existing beyond his current perception.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was endless white snow.
Daylight. Snow.
Li Mo had rarely seen such a sight.
Or rather, "snow" itself was an unfamiliar concept to him. The few times he had encountered it were during his time in the Demon Slayer world, when he traveled to Hokkaido for support.
But this? A world completely blanketed in white? He had never witnessed anything like it.
The next thing he noticed was the "sun" hanging in the sky. Soon, however, Li Mo began to doubt—was that really a sun? The scorching rays of light were unbearable.
If he remembered correctly…
"A Lostbelt, then? At least I didn't draw the worst possible scenario."
The cold assaulted him. He circulated his magical energy, casting a heat-preservation spell over himself to resist the freezing temperatures.
The Eternal Frozen Flame Century: Ragnarök.
At first, the term left him momentarily confused. But then, it clicked.
This was the Scandinavian Lostbelt—a world ruled by Skadi, a realm born from the aftermath of Ragnarök in Norse mythology.
The gods were dead, yet the one who had ignited *Ragnarök* still remained. That being of flame continued to exist, radiating immense light and heat, turning the entire world into a hellscape.
Li Mo gazed into the distance.
Ice and fire coexisted.
What a breathtaking sight. Contradictory elements existing side by side—a scene impossible in the ordinary world.
Yet this surreal landscape held a strange beauty.
Pulling out a camera—modified with magecraft to function in extreme environments—he silently recorded the scene. Maybe he could sell the footage for some extra cash back in the city.
Not that he cared much about money. The act of filming was more for the sake of preservation.
After his journey in Teyvat, after spending what felt like centuries with Raiden Ei in the Plane of Euthymia, his true age had likely stretched into the triple digits. Looking back now, most of that time had blurred into monotony—endless chanting and study.
He recalled a certain playable character from Sumeru, one who had been trapped in ruins for a hundred years, only to emerge into a world that had moved on without them.
The truth was, a life of isolation, devoid of interaction, didn't foster growth. No matter how much time passed, a person's mental age wouldn't necessarily advance alongside their physical years.
Psychological maturity was never a direct function of biological age.
"Really, why am I thinking about this the moment I enter a dungeon? I'm still young."
Tossing the camera back into his system storage, Li Mo shifted his focus. Visually, this world's abnormalities were obvious, but magical perception revealed even more.
The snow covering the ground was saturated with magical energy. A closer inspection confirmed it—this wasn't natural snow. It was *created* through magecraft, suppressing the extreme heat and preventing the world from becoming a complete inferno.
Had Skadi been maintaining this level of output all this time? For how many years?
When he had first gathered intel, he hadn't paid much attention. But now, observing firsthand, he understood the sheer effort Skadi had expended to sustain this fragile balance.
The Flame Giant, still active, endlessly poured heat into the world—like the Ten Suns of Eastern myth. But unlike those legends, there was no "Hou Yi" to shoot them down. Only Skadi, sealing Surtr and using her snow to mitigate the devastation, allowing the world to barely endure.
Treading forward, Li Mo had no intention of judging this Lostbelt King. His priority was gathering information—figuring out how to kill Surtr.
In Norse mythology, Surtr was the primordial Flame Giant. In the prophecy of *Ragnarök*, it was this being who would engulf the world in fire, bringing about its end.
Norse mythology was unique among world myths. Unlike others, which often lacked definitive conclusions, it had Ragnarök—an inevitable, prophesied doom.
Some interpreted this as a reflection of Norse culture's collision with Christianity. But then, why didn't Greek mythology have a similar prophecy?
Li Mo didn't know.
His knowledge of Norse myth was limited. He hadn't even studied runes, despite having some reference materials. Instead, he had prioritized texts like those of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, branching out from there.
His choice had been influenced by Aleister Crowley. The "Impact Lance" and "Spiritual Tripping" techniques Crowley had given him were like homework assignments—and homework required research.
Beyond that, his studies had leaned toward Greek mysticism. His teacher, Medea, was a witch from Greek myth. It made sense.
Norse mythology? Runes were famous, but Li Mo hadn't needed them.
"The sound of birds? Crows?"
Walking across the snow, Li Mo looked up and spotted two dark birds circling the vast sky—larger than ordinary crows, and steeped in mystery.
"Odin?" he murmured.
Odin was said to have two ravens: Huginn (Thought) and Muninn (Memory).
In a world as harsh as this, could ordinary crows even survive?
Unlikely.
Before he could ponder further, another sound reached him—footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. The kind made by something far larger than a human.
Soon, the source emerged. From a forest of ice-covered trees, a towering figure stepped forward—a being far surpassing human dimensions.
A Giant.
A creature from the Age of Gods.
And judging by its demeanor, it wasn't friendly.
"Are humans at the bottom of the food chain here?" Li Mo sighed as the giant charged. "Isn't it ironic that many of the warriors in Valhalla were once human?"
He didn't even need to raise a hand.
Mere leakage of his magical energy, shaped by his magecraft into blades, was enough to bisect the giant. Then, he consumed it.
He absorbed the giant's mystery, though it wasn't nearly enough to grow a sixth tail—not even a stunted one.
Li Mo glanced up at the false sun, an idea forming in his mind.