In the human world, deep in the mountains beside a remote village.
Everyone in this village knew that in the heart of the mountains lived a mysterious witch. She never showed her face, and no one had ever seen her appear. No one knew what she looked like. Only when someone sought her help for predictions about matters such as marriage, hunting, or warding off ferocious beasts, she would offer revelations from inside her thatched hut, her voice passing through the wall.
And after the seeker received the revelation, they would leave the witch a sheep, a cow, or some other precious goods as payment.
This way of life had persisted for decades, never changing.
And on this day, another perplexed seeker came, seeking revelation.
"Mysterious witch, please tell me, what will this child's future hold…"
A simply dressed elderly farmer, one hand leading a goat, the other holding a young boy, asked reverently.
This farmer's reverence for the witch began in his childhood. Back then, he could barely remember, but he was imperceptibly steeped in the rumors about the witch from his parents and elders, thus developing a deep awe for the witch in his heart.
And coming here was to ask the witch about the future of his beloved youngest son, whether there would be any perils, and whether they could be evaded.
And before him, from inside the simple thatched hut, a low and aged female voice sounded after a long silence.
"He will become a valiant warrior. In the future, his name is fated to resound far and wide. But, after he comes of age, unspeakable misfortune will befall him, causing him great anguish."
Hearing the first half, joy first appeared on the elderly farmer's face, but upon hearing the second half, he became alarmed.
"Then… then what should I do…"
The helpless farmer was instantly at a loss, while the little boy beside him looked at his father in confusion, still too young to comprehend what the person in the thatched hut and his father were discussing.
"…Remember, he must not slay a pregnant doe. In this way, he can evade this fate."
The person inside the thatched hut said after a long contemplation.
After a thousand thanks, and respectfully leaving the goat, the delighted farmer took his young son and departed.
For a moment, tranquility returned to the outside of the thatched hut, with only the rustling whisper of the wind.
A long time later, the simple wooden door was pushed open, revealing the slender and fair arm behind it, and the owner of the arm - a woman cloaked in black.
The silent woman shrouded in a black cloak, her face unseen, simply walked out the door, then led the goat into the thatched hut, and shut the wooden door.
Inside the simple thatched hut, pitch blackness reigned, with only a sliver of light seeping in from the small window.
And everything inside was even more scanty. A few essential daily necessities and a bed of dry straw, and even the pottery was limited to a single water jug, nothing more. Undoubtedly, this kind of life could be called austere, but the witch did not mind at all. She had long grown accustomed to such a frugal existence.
A cup of water and a few morsels of dark bread were the witch's entire sustenance for the day.
Releasing the goat's rope from her hand, then using her hands to lower the hood shrouding her head, the witch revealed a youthful and beautiful countenance.
Bright and serene eyes, crimson tresses, gently cascading over her shoulders, paired with that well-proportioned figure, made this witch seem more like a tranquil and graceful young maiden untouched by worldly affairs, rather than an enigmatic prophet who unraveled the world's confusions and unveiled prophecies.
The young red-haired witch faced the small golden statue on the altar before her, slowly knelt down, then clasped her hands tightly, placing them on her chest, murmuring prayers.
Before her, the pure gold statue on the mysterious altar was entirely incongruous with the crude thatched hut. This statue resembled a coiled serpent. The serpent's posture and aura both exuded a sense of indifference and coldness, exquisitely lifelike.
To craft this statue, one befitting her master's identity, for over a century, this mute woman who had personally witnessed the Midgard Serpent Jormungandr, had poured her heart and soul into amassing enough funds to commission such a pure gold statue, and for this, had no choice but to live very frugally, to the point that it became habitual.
And all this was solely to offer her reverence and devotion to her master.
And when the simple prayer concluded, she took a keen dagger from the altar.
"Baa~"
The goat beside her bleated vacantly.
…
With little effort, her deft technique easily butchered this goat into pieces of hide, fur, and flesh.
She knew her master would relish this flesh and blood.
After reverently offering this flesh and blood as a sacrifice on the altar, the maiden began her lengthy prayer anew.
"'AI_C_GNAIIH, Y_GOF'NN, Y_HRII_ULN! (My creator, your offspring, your servant calls to you here!)…"
The maiden prayed devoutly. Even though the recipient of her prayers had never replied, and the flesh and blood she sacrificed had never been partaken, she still persevered in praying.
For over a century, even as human kingdoms rose and crumbled, villages were born and vanished, generations of people lived and died, she had never forsaken praying and sacrificing, because she always steadfastly believed that her master, her creator, must have heard her prayers.
And the proof was the delicate snake scales behind her ears, and the snake scales growing in inconspicuous nooks of her body, as well as those vertical serpentine pupils.
Whenever she prayed, those snake scales would quiver slightly, like the murmuring sleep-talk of some giant beast, responding to her in this manner.
These snake scales had already proven that she was no longer the former human mute woman, or rather, when she beheld that world-shaking magnificent scene, that human mute woman had already perished, replaced by a non-human life borrowing the mute woman's flesh and blood, blended with a human soul and the might of a giant serpent.
Eternally youthful visage, immortal lifespan… were all merely accessories to this creation.
Just as in her prayer, the great serpent Jormungandr was her creator, her father, her master, and she was the great serpent's offspring, the great serpent's servant.
She could no longer possibly return, because her entire being had long belonged to her master - Jormungandr.
After the lengthy prayer ended, sipping a little clear water and nibbling a small piece of dark bread, she began to prepare for slumber.
Lying on the straw bed, the maiden's lips once more murmured short prayers, then sank into a deep dream.
And on the altar beside her, the pure gold serpent statue coldly gazed upon her as if it were alive.
…
"…"
By her ears, as if someone was singing, and as if someone was murmuring.
The voice was indistinct, only making one feel melodious and soul-stirring, as if it were celestial music from the vault of the heavens, and accompanying the celestial music was the breathing sound of some giant beast slumbering, that kind of low breathing, making one sincerely feel a spine-chilling shudder.
"…"
Everything around was hazy, as if veiled in white mist. The drowsy consciousness made the maiden unable to lucidly perceive everything around her.
The weighty breathing of the giant beast sounded by her ears, accompanied by cryptic murmurs and sleep-talk-like sounds. The maiden wandered in this white mist, as if in the clouds, and as if in a dream.
That breathing sound that would make ordinary folk tremble inexplicably made the maiden feel a sense of reassurance and captivation.
After roaming for an unknown span, the maiden suddenly thought of something she had subconsciously neglected.
"Where is this…"
And the instant this notion was born, in a flash, the originally tranquil everything abruptly shattered, replaced by a kind of ferocity, dread, and brutality, as if the giant beast slumbering in the white mist had been roused.
An unfathomable great sense of fear and trembling instantly enveloped the maiden's heart. The composure and wisdom accrued over a hundred years were utterly trivial in the face of this kind of deep terror originating from life's most primal instincts, instantly being rent asunder.
Her body went limp and crumpled to the ground.
Her teeth kept chattering, her body quaking, but what was birthed along with the sense of fear was a deep fanatical veneration. The maiden realized that she had finally beheld it again…
"Roar!!!!!!"
The earth-shaking roar ripped open the white mist shrouding all things, revealing the truth veiled beneath the white mist…
In the boundless sky, terrifying and ferocious pupils coldly gazed upon all things below. The body covered in countless scales slowly unfurled, nearly enveloping everything in sight. The long tail casually swayed lightly in the air, causing the entire world to be whipped into tempests for it.
As far as the eye could see, from directly overhead to the farthest horizon, the entire sky was blanketed by this unimaginably titanic beast.
Or rather, it was the vault of the heavens.
And looking at the sky-vault beast overhead, the maiden lying limp on the ground revealed deep exhilaration and zealotry on her face.
Just like that scene the maiden had witnessed before, that unforgettable scene…
The master she wholeheartedly believed in had finally sensed her call.