A week had passed since our conversation about the "Oath Tattoo." That discussion had eventually led us to the royal palace of Utgard, specifically to the underground chambers that served as Loki's magic research facility.
The sound of our footsteps echoed along the dark, damp corridor. The sharp smell of wet earth mixed with rotting wood filled the air, stabbing into my nostrils unpleasantly.
I glanced sideways, catching sight of Fenrir's grimace. With her sharp sense of smell, the stench must have been unbearable for her. Even her tail twitched restlessly.
"I don't like this place," she muttered, her tone low and flat.
I turned toward her, trying to offer a reassuring smile. "You didn't have to come. Loki already assured me I'd be fine."
She shot me a sharp look. Her golden eyes glinted in the darkness, giving her an intimidating air.
"Do you really think I'd let you go through such a dangerous ritual alone?" she said coldly. "If something happens to you, who would I blame?"
I couldn't respond—not because I didn't have anything to say, but because I knew nothing I said would change her mind. I sighed deeply, turning my gaze forward. "I understand," I finally said, deciding not to prolong the conversation.
Loki, walking a few steps ahead of us, remained silent. He didn't look back, yet I could sense his sly smile, as if he fully understood what was going on between me and Fenrir.
Yeah, Loki had explained everything to her beforehand, including the risks of this perilous ritual. It seemed he didn't want to take any chances if something happened to me.
Amazingly, Fenrir had agreed—but with one condition: she had to witness the ritual herself.
After a few more minutes of walking, we arrived at the end of the corridor. Before us stood a large black wooden door, adorned with ancient carvings that emitted a faint glow. Loki waved his hand, and with a gentle motion, the door creaked open on its own.
"Enter."
Beyond the door, the air felt different—heavier, as if saturated with dense mana.
"Welcome to my magic laboratory," Loki said, spreading his arms with pride. "Step inside."
With his permission, we stepped into the room. I stood frozen, marveling at the sight before me.
The space was vast—immense, even, comparable to a surface flower garden in size. A magical circle covered the entire floor, glowing in swirling hues of blue and gold.
The walls were engraved with runes, while shelves at the room's edges overflowed with leather-bound books and ancient scrolls. Tables near the walls were cluttered with monster parts and unidentifiable objects.
When Loki mentioned a laboratory, I had envisioned something filled with water tanks holding bodies or organs, or semi-modern equipment like the ones often depicted in fantasy stories.
But seeing this, I realized his laboratory resembled a medieval European wizard's chamber straight out of old tales or classic films.
"This is it," Loki said casually, stepping into the center of the room and circling the magical array drawn on the floor. "Time to create the tattoo."
I swallowed hard. Even though I had prepared myself for this, seeing the glowing circle and feeling the surging energy made my legs tremble. Anxiety filled my chest, but I steeled my resolve and prepared to step forward.
Before I could, however, a hand gripped my shoulder firmly. I turned to find Fenrir, her expression unreadable.
"Can't this be called off?" Her voice was low but sharp. "You know you don't have to do this to become stronger. You have me. Don't you trust my strength? I'll protect you."
I stared at her for a moment, meeting her gaze. I knew her worry was genuine, and I understood how much she didn't want me to go through with this. But this was my choice—my path. Shaking my head gently, I carefully pried her hand off.
"This is my choice, Fenrir. Besides..." I forced a smile despite my hesitation. "Don't you want a pet that's incredibly strong?"
She hissed, baring her teeth slightly in frustration. "Ugh, do whatever you want! Don't blame me if something happens to you!" She turned away, striding off in quick steps. But after a few paces, she stopped. "Hey... you better survive. I mean it." Her voice was deep, tinged with hope.
I smiled faintly, trying to mask the storm of emotions swirling inside me. "Don't underestimate me. I'll survive—and I'll come out much stronger."
Loki, who had been observing silently, glanced at me as I walked past him. That infuriating grin of his returned, as if he were mocking me. "Finished saying your goodbyes?"
I sighed, giving him an exasperated look. "Yeah."
I stepped into the center of the circle and sat cross-legged. Loki began dripping some blood onto my head. Slowly, the magical array around me glowed brighter, and the energy emanating from it made my hair stand on end.
"Focus," Loki said calmly. "The ritual is about to begin. Prepare your most earnest oath."
I closed my eyes, attempting to center my thoughts. But the more I tried to focus, the more the darkness engulfed me. It felt like sinking into a cold, bottomless sea.
Unconsciously, I found myself standing in a boundless dark space. My head throbbed, and my body felt limp and numb.
Where was I? Was this... my subconscious?
Thinking about it made my head ache even more. I felt trapped, unable to gather my thoughts no matter how hard I tried.
Suddenly, a light appeared in the darkness. An old man stepped out from the radiance, his figure wrapped in a blinding glow. Though his face was indistinct, I could sense an immense presence emanating from him. He walked slowly, drawing closer.
Who was he? Why was he here? What was happening?
I wanted to speak, but no words came out, as though my voice was stuck in my throat. I tried moving, but my body refused to respond. All I could do was watch as he approached.
When he finally stood before me, the man raised his hand and touched my forehead.
Aaargh!
A searing heat surged through my entire body, as if I were being burned alive. I wanted to scream, but no sound escaped. I wanted to writhe in agony, but my body remained paralyzed.
Move! Move! Move!
I fought with all my might to move, but it was futile. My strength drained away, leaving me weak and defenseless.
Distantly, I saw his lips moving, as if he were speaking. Gradually, his voice reached me—a soft whisper, like the wind brushing against my ears.
"Speak your oath."
Summoning all my remaining strength, I opened my mouth and shouted with all my might. "I will... I will save Fenrir during Ragnarok!"
My voice echoed through the darkness, but the man didn't react. He simply stood still, as though uninterested in my vow.
Seconds passed, and he remained motionless, as if waiting for something. Confusion filled me until, slowly, my thoughts began to clear.
Ah, now I understood... He must be the embodiment of Yggdrasil.
Taking a deep breath, I prepared to shout another oath—something I deeply desired.
"I will put an end to the gods' selfishness and tyranny!"
At that, the old man smiled faintly before everything faded away, leaving me utterly exhausted.
*****
[POV Fenrir]
His eyes were wide open, blood streaming from his nose, mouth, and ears. A scream of agony escaped his lips, forcing me to hold my breath.
The sound was excruciating, piercing my ears so intensely that I had to bite my lip to resist the urge to step into the circle. But I knew this ritual couldn't be interrupted. One small mistake, and it could cost him his life.
I glanced at Loki. His usually composed face betrayed a hidden tension. Even so, he stood firm, watching without moving.
"Isn't there something we can do?" I asked, my voice almost pleading—a tone I had never used with anyone before.
Loki shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, young lady. This is beyond our control. We can only place our trust in him."
My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms. Trembling, I placed one hand over my chest, silently praying—to anyone who might be listening—for Yata's survival.
The light from the magic circle began to fade, accompanied by the dwindling echoes of Yata's screams. Moments later, his body collapsed to the floor. A thin wisp of smoke rose from him, and the sharp smell of burning flesh stung my nose.
I rushed to him, dropping to my knees beside his motionless body. My fingers trembled as I brought them close to his nostrils, checking for breath.
He was still breathing. Weak, but steady. I withdrew my fingers and pressed my ear against his left chest, listening for his heartbeat. The same—faint but steady—nothing alarming.
"Thank goodness..."
A relieved sigh escaped me, and before I realized it, tears streamed down my face. I wrapped my arms around his body, burying my face in his warm chest, even though he remained unconscious.
"You're such an idiot," I whispered softly, my voice barely audible. "Such a fool."
Behind me, Loki approached. He knelt beside me, his gaze on Yata filled with evident relief. "The ritual succeeded. He made it through."
I didn't reply. I only held Yata tighter, silently wishing for him to wake up soon, to return to teasing me like he always did. And deep in my heart, I swore I would never let him do anything this dangerous again.