Outside the Dragon Domain, before reaching the cold, deadly northern island, stood a kingdom that defied the frozen world around it.
Vast forests spread across the land, filled with towering trees whose pink leaves shimmered beneath the light. The sweet scent of flowers drifted in the breeze, painting the air with life.
At the heart of this paradise stood a magnificent castle built entirely of jade. Its walls glowed faintly under the morning sun, regal and unyielding.
Inside, upon a jade throne, sat a man.
Regal. Graceful. Handsome though with a touch of femininity. His platinum hair flowed softly, his golden eyes closed, one hand supporting his chin. His long ears twitched faintly, betraying his sharp awareness.
For a long moment, silence filled the hall — until the throne room doors burst open.
Bang!
The man slowly opened one golden eye."What's wrong, Riel?"
The intruder, a woman of striking beauty, with golden hair and sapphire-blue eyes, sighed."Silfy ran away again."
The king's eyes widened."…Fuck me."
Riel tilted her head. "Right now?"
The king coughed awkwardly, eyes darting away. "Ahem… l-later."
The king waved his hand, and from the shadows, a man in a blue kimono stepped forward.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Find the princess and bring her home," the king ordered, his voice calm but firm. "Take a few soldiers with you."
The man knelt, lowering his head."As you command, my king."
***
A young girl, barely six years old, crouched on a high tree branch. She wore a black kimono that fluttered in the breeze, her platinum hair gleaming faintly under the sunlight. Her eyes were mesmerising: one golden, one blue.
She peeked around cautiously."Hmm… looks like we're safe."
A voice echoed from above her head. "How many times are you going to do this?"
The girl placed a finger on her chin, pretending to count."Let's see… maybe the tenth time?"
Then she looked up and grabbed the small creature sitting atop her head.
It was a tiny, black puppy with blood-red eyes — undeniably cute despite its annoyed expression.
"So, doggy," she said with a grin, "why can you talk?"
The puppy's fur bristled. "I am not a dog! I am a god — an Outer One!"
The girl giggled, patting his head. "Sure, doggy."
The creature growled, grinding its teeth. "This body is not a dog! It's a wolf!"But it sighed, lowering its head in resignation. I still need the girl's help…
The young girl jumped down from the tree, raising her hands in excitement."Let's go on an adventure to that dungeon you mentioned, doggy! Hehehe!"
The "dog god" could only sigh in defeat.
***
Twenty hooded figures moved silently through the dungeon.
The sky above them was wrong — a radiant white sun burned overhead, yet the air was filled with ash. Hellish white flames raged in the distance, roaring like volcanic storms.
At the base of a crimson hill, they saw it: A massive red cocoon glowing like molten lava. In front of it stood a black spear covered in ancient runes, and beside it — a broken spear made entirely of congealed blood.
"My lord," one follower whispered. "Is that… the resting place of a Great Outer God?"
The masked leader nodded. "Yes. Just as the priestess foretold. If we awaken it, the Outer God will grant us power enough to crush the Guardians when the war begins."
They advanced carefully. No traps. No monsters. Just an unsettling silence.
Then the leader stopped."What's wrong, my lord?"
He frowned. "...Nothing. Keep moving."
Minutes passed. The air grew heavier.
When they reached the black spear, the ground trembled.
"What is this energy…?" one murmured.
The leader narrowed his eyes. "A weapon forged by the Outer Beings, perhaps."
The moment his words fell—
Darkness erupted.
"Shit! Prepare yourselves!" the leader barked.
He turned— and froze.
"Guh—!"
A black, shadowy hand pierced through a follower's chest, gripping his still-beating heart.
"M-My lord…?"
Boom!
The man's body exploded, flesh and blood splattering in every direction.
"AHHHHHHHH!"
Screams filled the chamber. The shadow moved — heads flew, limbs twisted, bodies burst.
"F-Fuck! What's happening!?"
The leader swung his sword infused with Zen, but when he looked again—
He hadn't struck the shadow.
He had sliced through his own ally.
The masked man staggered back, trembling as he watched his comrades die one by one — until he was the only one left.
"Damn it! Damn it all!"
He ran. The shadow followed like smoke, then suddenly stopped. It trembled, as if afraid.
The man fell to his knees, gasping. "Haah… haah… what the hell was that!?"
He looked up— and froze.
A glowing spear floated before him, radiating a divine, suffocating presence. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Purple flames erupted, consuming everything.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"
His screams echoed through the dungeon — and then, silence. Only ashes remained.
The runes on the black spear began to glow. The white sun above turned purple.
This was the weapon feared even by the Gods in an unknown world. Forged from Surtur's Soul. Born from emotion itself.
The spear once wielded by Samuel von Lunar — on the day he lost the one he loved. The day he slaughtered millions of gods. The day he erased an entire pantheon from existence.
The day he became the King of Oblivion.
And this weapon… His Wrath made manifest… was known as—
The Spear of Wrath: Ragnarök.