Chapter Eight: The Scattered Proliferation of Gods
North of the Jinlunga Canal, the entire Land of Mist was shrouded in thick ice and frost, now enveloped in a light drizzle and gusts of wind.
Vi crouched down, concealing himself in a small cave on the edge of the Mist's cliff. The cave was small, barely large enough for one person, forcing him to hunch over, his tightly gripped short spear resting diagonally against his abdomen.
He waited for the frost giant to cross this narrow salt flat.
All the frost giants came from Ymir.
All the gods came from Buri.
Buri died at birth, leaving only one offspring—Bauer.
Bauer, leading his offspring, continued the struggle against Ymir and his descendants.
However, the gods were outnumbered. To expand his race, Bauer, the son of the progenitor of the gods, now the father of all the gods, forcibly took the giantess Bestra as his wife. Bestra bore Bourne three brothers—Ve, Willie, and Odin.
Now the three brothers were grown and ready to prove their strength.
Ve knew he couldn't compare to his brother Odin, but he didn't want to lose to Willie either. So, alone, armed with a short spear, he left the gathering place of the gods and went to the giants' territory, intending to hunt down Ymir's offspring alone.
Ve silently calculated the time; Ymir was still asleep, surrounded by a group of giants. If the gods attacked, they would sound their horns to awaken their invincible father.
Of all the gods, only Bourne could rival Ymir.
But Bourne was alone; the giants were endless, constantly growing from the poisonous blood of the Vimur River.
For every one killed, ten more would spring forth.
However, regardless of the circumstances, the frost giants born from Ymir's body were far more powerful than those that grew unchecked from poisonous blood and venom.
Take, for example, the target Vei was to hunt today—Throltgelmir.
This six-headed frost giant was born from Ymir's toes, possessing strength enough to lift mountains. Few among the gods could rival him. Among the giants guarding Ymir, Throltgelmir held a high position, almost comparable to Bauer, simply because he was Ymir's son.
But this son of Ymir was going to die here today.
Vei silently recited this in his mind, the short spear in his hand already cleaned. He held his breath, preventing the white vapor from his breath from drifting too far.
He was still waiting.
Vee was confident that his full-force attack would pierce the head of Throttegormir, but this monster had six heads; even without one, it could still survive.
"Thump...thump..."
Footsteps echoed from the towering cliffs, the heavy sound causing the cave where Vee was hiding to tremble.
The already dark cave was now shrouded in a thick, towering shadow, which continued to grow relentlessly. Not content with just covering the cave, the shadow climbed the cliffs, devouring the mountains. Finally, the entire mountain range, once formed by the rise of the venomous dragon Nidhogg, was swallowed by the shadow.
Thottegormir, the six-headed giant, carried a venomous snake on his back, moving effortlessly through the mountains.
With a single step, he could traverse mountains, his footsteps shaking the earth. The venomous snake on his back was enormous, no lighter than a mountain, yet the giant exerted no effort, not even tensing the muscles in his arms.
Throltgelmir laughed heartily, delighted, for the venomous snake he carried was none other than the leader of the venomous snakes of the Vimur River.
The Vimur River contained not only Ymir's venomous blood but also the venom of the great dragon Nidhogg. Giants born from this venomous blood faced an endless stream of venomous snakes from its source.
The snakes, obeying the commands of their vile father Nidhogg, were determined to kill every frost giant.
The frost giants were also troubled by these snakes, frequently venturing into the Vimur River to hunt them, but they could never eradicate them.
But Throttegormir searched the river for a long time, enduring the bites of the venomous snakes, finally wading through the water to find their leader. He fought it for three days and nights before finally killing it.
Even if he didn't completely eradicate the snakes of the Vimur River, it was enough to keep them quiet for a long time!
With such a magnificent trophy hanging behind him, how could Throttegormir not be delighted?
He didn't stop, straddling the mountain range, completely unaware of the movement on the highest peak, level with its head.
Then, a short spear came flying through the air like a meteor, instantly piercing through three heads, foul blood gushing out and splashing onto the hideous frost giant's body.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh!"
Throttegormir let out a painful howl, releasing his grip and throwing the snakes away, aiming directly at the source of the attack.
Seeing that he hadn't killed Serlotegelmir immediately, Vy quickly left the cave where he was hiding. Now unarmed, he hastily sharpened a rock from the cave wall and hurled it at the snake's corpse.
With a whoosh, the rock, propelled by the god's full force, shattered the snake's skin, scattering countless scales in the air. But the rock was, after all, mortal; even though it slightly deflected the snake's carcass, it couldn't stop it from crashing onto the mountain peak.
Vy's ears were stunned by the enormous sound. The snake's corpse slammed onto the mountainside, causing layers of accumulated snow to slide off, as if the mountain itself had shed its clothes. The avalanche spread from the mountainside to the foot of the mountain, showing no signs of abating.
It took Vy some time to escape the massive avalanche. His boots were filled with icy snow, and his arms were numb with cold.
Now, Vy tightly gripped a weapon he found easy to use—the very fang he had snatched from the recently deceased snake!
As the serpent crashed heavily to the mountain peak, Ve, with lightning speed, leaped into its mouth and forcefully pulled out its incredibly sharp fangs.
The two fangs, still coated in venom, continued to ooze deadly poison. Facing such a dangerous creature, Ve dared not be careless. He carefully wrapped his gloves tightly around the fangs to ensure the chilling venom wouldn't splash onto him.
In the distance, Throttegormir, having just recovered from its shock, was gradually regaining its strength.
Although its three heads were forever lifeless and its eyes closed, its other six eyes still stared fiercely at Ve, as if wanting to devour this uninvited guest alive.
Ve brandished its fangs, the tips aimed at the giant.
The young god laughed heartily, a laugh that reminded the giant of his own laughter before him—just as hearty, just as unrestrained.
But the giant had already paid the price for his recklessness.
Throtegolmir casually uprooted a towering mountain and wielded it as a weapon.
Now it was time for the gods to pay the price.
Throtegolmir launched his attack.