Chapter 754

If Jotunheim, the homeland of the Frost Giants, was an icy hellscape, then Muspelheim, the realm of the Fire Giants, was its blazing opposite.

Long ago, Asgard had embarked on an era of relentless conquest. World after world had fallen before its armies, their rulers forced to kneel before Odin. During that golden age of expansion, Odin had grown so confident in his own power that he believed no one in the universe could challenge him.

Then he marched into Muspelheim and encountered its ruler, Surtur, the King of the Fire Giants.

The campaign became the greatest challenge Asgard had ever faced. Surtur was the most formidable enemy Odin had ever fought, a foe the All-Father could not defeat alone.

Meanwhile, Evenson still held a small flame from the Eternal Flame in his palm. He had asked Frigga whether he could take it, but rather than give him a straight answer, she had launched into a history lesson.

He wasn’t entirely sure what she was getting at, but he saw no reason to interrupt.

"Still, Asgard won in the end, didn’t it?" he asked.

"Indeed."

Victory over such a formidable enemy should have been a source of pride, yet Frigga’s expression twisted into a bitter smile.

"That was because Asgard had committed its finest legions to the campaign. And Odin wasn’t alone when he faced Surtur. He had a powerful ally."

"An ally?"

Evenson was genuinely surprised.

The Odin of that age hadn’t been the benevolent, aging monarch he knew today. He had been a ruthless conqueror in his prime, a warrior who had forged an empire through overwhelming strength. Nor were his armies the comparatively inexperienced troops Asgard fielded now. They had been an engine of conquest, following their tyrant king from one battlefield to the next.

And even that army had struggled in Muspelheim. Odin himself had been unable to defeat Surtur on his own.

Jotunheim suddenly seemed rather unimpressive by comparison. Its Frost Giants were hardly in the same league as the Fire Giants, and their king, Laufey, certainly hadn’t inspired the same sort of fear.

Evenson had briefly lost himself in thought, but his gaze remained fixed on Frigga.

She misunderstood his expression.

"Don’t look at me," she said. "The ally I mentioned was..."

Her voice faltered. The light in her eyes dimmed, and a trace of sorrow crossed her face.

"Never mind. It’s better left unsaid."

She didn’t need to finish.

Evenson could guess who she meant. Given Frigga’s sudden sadness and reluctance to speak, the mysterious ally had almost certainly been her eldest daughter, Hela.

Frigga continued, putting the painful memory aside.

"In the end, Odin defeated Surtur. But he discovered that the Fire Giant King could not truly be killed. Even when his body was completely destroyed, Surtur would eventually regenerate."

Her gaze drifted past Evenson to the brazier behind him.

"So Odin took the source of Surtur’s power and brought it back to Asgard. That is the origin of the Eternal Flame."

Now Evenson understood why the fire radiated such immense energy.

This wasn’t an ordinary magical relic. It was the very power source of an enemy who had once pushed Odin, at the height of his strength, to his limits.

Just how much power did it contain?

Evenson looked at the flame in his hand with renewed interest.

Unlike many of the other treasures in the vault, the Eternal Flame resonated with his own magic. Its power wasn’t merely impressive. It was compatible with his abilities, something he might actually be able to absorb and use.

For one glorious moment, he wanted to forget every other concern, scoop up the entire brazier, and make a run for it.

Restraint. Exercise some restraint.

He took several deep breaths until he managed to suppress the urge.

Stealing the whole brazier was out of the question. At least for now.

But a tiny piece of the flame?

Surely that was manageable.

"Because of its origins, Odin values the Eternal Flame above nearly every other treasure in this vault," Frigga continued. "When Surtur was defeated, he laid a terrible curse upon Asgard. He swore that one day, he would—"

She stopped.

A memory had suddenly surfaced, cutting through her thoughts with the force of a blade.

During the days when she had hovered between life and death, she had experienced a prophetic dream. She had seen Asgard consumed by fire, its halls and towers reduced to burning ruins.

At the time, she hadn’t understood where those flames would come from.

How had she failed to make the connection?

Who else could bring about such destruction but Surtur, the King of the Fire Giants?

Frigga’s eyes shifted toward the Eternal Flame.

For the first time, she regarded it not simply as a priceless treasure, but as a potential catastrophe waiting to happen.

It was a terrible thing to possess.

Unfortunately, it couldn’t be extinguished. If there had been any way to destroy it, Odin would probably have tried every method imaginable, including the rather inelegant option of urinating on it.

But what else could they do? Hide it somewhere?

Where in the universe could they find a place more secure than Odin’s own vault? And if Surtur ever proved capable of breaking into this place and reclaiming his power, then there was probably nowhere in Asgard he couldn’t reach.

While Frigga wrestled with these grim possibilities, Evenson stared miserably at the tiny flame resting in his palm.

He understood enough of her interrupted explanation to grasp the message. The Eternal Flame was one of Asgard’s most important treasures, and he had better not try to take it.

Unfortunately, the flame was already in his hand.

Putting it back now would be emotionally devastating.

With the expression of a man being forced to return a toy he’d already unwrapped, Evenson moved his hand toward the brazier. He extended a finger from his other hand and flicked a few sparks back into the fire.

The little flame in his palm shrank noticeably.

He looked at Frigga with genuine heartbreak.

"Not even this much?"

His question dragged the queen out of her troubled thoughts.

Irritation flickered across her face as she turned to look at him. Her gaze moved from the brazier to the dwindling flame in his palm.

Then she walked over, reached directly into the Eternal Flame, and pulled out another portion.

She placed it in Evenson’s hand.

"You may have all of this."

"Huh?"

Evenson stared at his palm.

The new portion was actually larger than the one he’d taken himself.

Before he could figure out what had just happened, Frigga spoke again. This time, her voice was considerably firmer.

"Take good care of that flame. And I expect you to prepare what I asked for as soon as possible. The sooner, the better. And I want as much as you can make. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

Evenson nodded immediately.

So this was a delivery bonus. Frigga had just paid him extra to speed up production.

He could work with that.

Now that she had identified the enemy, Frigga needed to prepare Asgard for the possibility of Surtur’s return. She had already decided on three immediate measures.

First, she would increase surveillance of Muspelheim and keep a close watch on the Fire Giants’ movements.

Second, she would station elite warriors in the vault to guard the Eternal Flame.

Third, she would accelerate the formation of the new Valkyrie corps. If the first two measures failed and Surtur returned to reclaim his power, Asgard would need a force capable of meeting him in battle.

Ideally, her Valkyries would handle both the surveillance of Muspelheim and the defense of the vault. But creating more Valkyries through the transformation process required Evenson’s medicine.

That made the little bundle of Eternal Flame in his hand a small price to pay.

From Frigga’s perspective, it wasn’t even a close contest. The future strength of her Valkyrie corps mattered far more than a little stolen fire.

And Evenson, having accepted such a generous gift, could hardly pretend he owed her nothing.

"Rest assured, Your Majesty," he said solemnly. "I’ll devote myself to this task day and night. You have my word."

"Day and night? Devote yourself?"

Frigga didn’t look particularly impressed.

"Those are fine words to say in public. But after giving you so much, is that all I get in return? A vague promise?"

Evenson winced.

Apparently, even a Warlock’s talent for weaseling out of commitments had its limits.

"Three months," he said, gritting his teeth. "I guarantee that the first batch will be ready within three months."

In truth, he had plenty of demonic blood infused with fel energy. The Eredar Twins were still overseeing the mass production of demonheart warriors, and the resulting pile of demonic corpses provided no shortage of raw materials.

The problem was that most of the blood had already been earmarked for other purposes. He would have to divert some of that supply to Frigga’s project, and the quality wasn’t particularly good. Before he could use it, he would need to refine it.

Three months was a reasonable deadline.

Frigga finally nodded, satisfied.

"Very well. I’ll give you three months."

With that settled, she turned and headed toward the exit.

She had nearly reached the doorway at the top of the stairs when Evenson suddenly called after her.

"Your Majesty! Please wait!"

"Hm?"

Frigga turned her head.

Both Evenson and Sif immediately took a step backward.

For one brief, horrifying moment, they stared at her with matching expressions of alarm.

Perhaps Evenson had shouted too abruptly. Whatever the reason, Frigga had turned her head without moving her shoulders or the rest of her body. Her neck had twisted well beyond ninety degrees, and the look she gave them was unsettling enough to make a person reconsider every decision that had led them into this room.

"Yes?" she asked.

A moment later, she turned the rest of her body around and resumed her usual regal composure, as if nothing unusual had happened.

Evenson opened his mouth, then closed it again.

He had genuinely been startled.

After collecting himself and arranging his thoughts, he finally spoke.

"Your Majesty clearly places great importance on these medicines. I assume you have a very specific use for them?"

"Naturally," Frigga replied.

"Then, since you’ve been so generous to me, I feel I ought to tell you something."

Evenson adopted an unusually hesitant tone.

"Truthfully, my skills are limited. The medicines I’ve prepared for you aren’t the most effective versions available."

Frigga’s brow furrowed.

"Are you saying there’s something better?"

"Yes."

He nodded firmly.

"There is. And I know where we can obtain it."

He paused.

"But..."

"But what?" Frigga asked, suddenly much more alert.

Given how much she valued these medicines, the possibility of acquiring something even more effective was difficult to ignore.

Evenson offered her an apologetic smile.

"If the medicines I’ve provided have already earned your favor, then the superior versions are treasures in their own right. And, naturally, treasures like those tend to have guardians."

His smile grew a little more strained.

"And those guardians aren’t like me. They don’t negotiate. They don’t listen to reason. And they certainly aren’t the sort of people who’ll hand over what you want just because you ask nicely."