Thirty minutes ago, Xia Mi, holding the Sword of the War God, was full of confidence and composure. Acting recklessly, she dug through the plaza ground until she uncovered a hidden alchemy array and the entrance to the White King's palace.
With Norton's guidance, she avoided layers of alchemical traps as she descended the stairs. At last, in a damp underground palace beside a stagnant pool, she encountered a massive, godlike beast with eight heads.
It was the White King's very flesh, the most infamous monster of Japanese mythology—even Susanoo had to use cunning to slay it—the fearsome Yamata no Orochi.
"Hahaha! Look at that, searching everywhere only to stumble right into it!" Xia Mi's face lit up. Yamata no Orochi was right before her, and the aura of kinship within its body could not be concealed.
Convinced she could finally sever the White King's greatest hope of resurrection, she raised her sword without hesitation.
"Hah! Foolish White King—stealing my techniques, robbing my results, even pirating Heroic Spirits. Prepare to die!"
The Sword of the War God cleaved through the thick darkness, its rainbow whip-like edge dazzling and magnificent.
…Thirty minutes later, Xia Mi was running for her life, covering her head as the serpent battered her relentlessly. Every time her blade touched the serpent's tail, sparks flew.
"Oi, oi, oi—what the hell is this thing! Norton, didn't you say it couldn't possibly become a real god!?"
She ducked and weaved underground, dodging the blows.
It was almost comical. Xia Mi, a martial master at the pinnacle of swordsmanship—peerless in blades, spears, staves, anything—yet the Sword of the War God could not compare to the blade embedded in Yamata no Orochi's tail: the Kusanagi no Tsurugi.
That sword was part of the serpent's body, overflowing with divine aura. Enhanced by the nature of divinity, its power had grown with the serpent itself.
Already sharp enough to cleave mountains, it now reached into the realm of the absurd.
Norton's voice echoed beside her. "I warned you. This Nibelungen is the White King's domain. She's carried out obvious modification experiments here."
"She's experimented on shadow followers, on hundred-demons, on divine dragons. Why wouldn't she tamper with her own remaining body?"
"Is that the point right now!?"
Xia Mi twisted through the soil, escaping easily thanks to her authority as King of the Earth and Mountains. She was faster and more agile underground than the lumbering serpent.
The beast, without the White King's soul within, only swung blindly, smashing the city's underground foundations. Yet Xia Mi slipped past like a fish in water.
"You're wondering about that overwhelming divine aura, right? I'll tell you: it's close to divinity, but it isn't a true god."
"What do you mean? A fake god?"
"Exactly," Norton replied calmly while watching her flee. "Think carefully. The 'Throne of the Gods'—without assistance, the White King could never have created it in secret. Without a Throne, there is no true godhood, no immortal divinity. At most, within her own Nibelungen, her spiritual world, she can fabricate a false god-seat through spiritual recasting."
"This is nonsense!" Xia Mi tried circling behind the serpent to strike back but was distracted by his words.
"Nibelungen is just our constructed otherworld, right? How does it become a spiritual world? And isn't spiritual recasting your specialty? This Orochi feels stronger than your Heracles ever did!"
"Why can't it be both? My Reality Marble—you've seen how a mental landscape can erode reality. Nibelungen appears both spirit and real. That's its essence."
He even began philosophizing. "Nibelungen originates from consciousness. Imagine a flower blooming—you believe it blossoms because you see it. Close your eyes, and though unseen, you still believe it blooms. What you perceive is only part of reality. What you conceive in your mind is a complete world. Thus, Nibelungen is both a spiritual and a real world, shaped by belief."
"Alright, alright, so it's just like dreaming then. Day-thoughts become night-dreams. Reality is waking, Nibelungen is dreaming. Why not say it that simply?" Xia Mi cut him off impatiently. "So the White King strengthens Orochi's divinity because she's the queen of this mental realm?"
"Exactly." Norton's tone turned lazy. "Spiritual recasting is high-level alchemy requiring immense control over spirit elements. How do you think I advanced Heroic Spirit technology so quickly? I leveraged her authority. And here, in her own Nibelungen, her power is magnified countless times."
Xia Mi ground her teeth. She, King of the Earth and Mountains, future Hel, was being driven around underground by a soulless lump of meat. The true culprit, the White King's soul fragments, were nowhere to be found. Was that reasonable?
It was not! She'd had enough.
She locked on Orochi's aura and decided to stop running. Head-on, she'd bait out its sword strike, dodge it at the last instant, then counter with the Sword of the War God.
Boom!
She burst out from the soil into the underground palace.
Whipping her rainbow blade like a lash, she smashed pillars and even the bronze throne atop the dais, carving deep scars into its surface until it shattered into fragments.
Instantly, all eight heads of Orochi turned, golden slitted eyes blazing with fury. That throne had once been where the ancient White King, as a divine corpse, received worship. By shattering it, Xia Mi had provoked the beast's deepest wrath.
Its tail finally came into view.
In its rage, Orochi unleashed a godlike sword strike.
The earth split, seas parted, the very world twisted.
"Uwaaaaah!"
Xia Mi had planned for this, yet the sheer force still shocked her. She barely dodged, then whipped her sword toward its heads.
But her moment's hesitation allowed the beast to react.
All eight mouths opened, spewing torrents of crimson flame. The rivers of fire converged into a sea of raging scarlet.
Her sword pierced through the inferno, striking a head—but only left a shallow wound a few inches deep across its scaled flesh.
On a human, lethal. On this thick-skinned monster, nothing—and it regenerated in moments.
"This ridiculous divine defense—it's broken!"
She cursed. "High attack, high defense, high regeneration—drag this thing into the real world and it could sweep the planet! Why doesn't the White King unleash it?"
"My guess," Norton said, "is that this spiritual recasting only works here. She's exploring myth-construction, but cannot apply it in reality. Once it leaves, it collapses."
"Because Nibelungen is her mental world. Myth is narrative of the spirit. Reality has no myths—at least not those unrecorded by Yggdrasil. Anything outside the world's record can only remain fantasy here."
Xia Mi's chest burned with frustration. If that was true, then the obvious fact was this: leaving now meant no one would be hurt. Only by her stubborn attack had she been beaten so miserably.
(End of Chapter)
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