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*****
The reason Fenyx had placed Nidavellir so low on his list of priorities—aside from his desire to avoid heavy drinking—was that he didn't actually have much of a need for the Dwarves' services. He simply wanted to see the famous forge for himself and leave a teleportation coordinate.
Jotunheim was a different story. Even if the Frost Giants didn't provoke him, the realm was home to ferocious Frost Beasts; the odds of farming a massive amount of experience there were much higher.
However, after a bit of thought, Fenyx accepted Thor's invitation. Having Thor as a guide would certainly make the visit smoother than going alone.
Because their concepts of time differed so vastly, Thor's definition of "soon" meant Fenyx had to wait another three days.
On the way to the Bifrost, Thor excitedly briefed Fenyx on their destination.
"The forge of Nidavellir draws its energy from a neutron star. Its heart hasn't gone cold for centuries. They say my hammer, Mjolnir, was birthed in that very fire!"
"Oh!"
Fenyx nodded as he listened, his mind already spinning with the possibility of commissioning the Dwarves to craft something for him.
He had brought a substantial amount of Vibranium with him to Asgard. While he had given a portion to the All-Father as a thank-you gift for the star charts, he had kept a fair amount for himself. Taking advantage of the trip, he had packed the remaining metal in a bag, intending to ask the Dwarves for an expert appraisal of its value in the wider galaxy.
As Heimdall opened the Bifrost conduit, Fenyx and Thor were swiftly transported to the forge of Nidavellir.
Before them stood a burning neutron star, encased in a massive, orbiting Dyson ring.
When they arrived, a group of Dwarves was already waiting to receive them. Thor greeted the one standing at the front: "Eitri!"
"Thor!"
The Dwarf named Eitri clearly shared a close bond with Thor. He walked over and made a visible effort to squat down, giving Thor a somewhat awkward hug.
Though they were called "Dwarves," the name was more a reflection of their proportions. They had massive heads and thick necks, but their lower bodies were short, especially their legs, which gave them an uncoordinated appearance. However, in terms of sheer height and mass, they were more like giants—several Thors stacked together wouldn't match Eitri's stature.
"Let me introduce you," Thor said, gesturing toward Fenyx. "Fenyx Halsatz, a guest of Asgard. He wanted to see the wonders of Nidavellir, so I brought him along."
Although Fenyx looked relatively ordinary, Eitri offered a friendly nod out of respect for Thor.
Thor then turned to Fenyx. "This is Eitri, King of the Dwarves, and the finest weapon designer and blacksmith in all of Nidavellir!"
"Hahaha!" Eitri let out a boisterous laugh at the introduction. "I've already had the fine ale prepared. No one leaves today until they've had their fill!"
Fenyx felt a wave of helplessness. He quietly tested his surroundings and found that using his 'Almighty Alchemy' (Ars Magna) here was nearly as effective as it had been on Vormir. He felt much more at ease.
If I can't out-drink them, I'll just have to cheat.
There weren't many Dwarves living at the forge—only three hundred and one, including the King—but this actually represented the majority of their race. Dwarves lived to create; almost every adult Dwarf aspired to be a blacksmith or a weapon designer, and the forge was their ultimate holy land. Very few chose any other path.
Due to the Dwarves' massive size, the welcome banquet was a shock to Fenyx. He discovered that he needed both hands just to lift a single ale mug.
Thor was taller and broader than Fenyx, but still within normal human limits. Watching Thor match Eitri drink for drink, cradling what looked like a small barrel, Fenyx felt a surge of genuine respect.
On the way over, Thor had explained that strength alone wasn't enough to earn the respect and friendship of the Dwarven race. Because they worshipped the art of the forge, physical prowess meant little unless it was tied to craftsmanship. Even if you beat the Dwarf King in a fight, you wouldn't necessarily win his admiration.
And since the Dwarves were the finest smiths in the universe, surpassing them in their own craft was a daunting task.
However, the Dwarves had one other obsession: drinking. There was a saying among their kind that while there might be a Dwarf who doesn't love the forge, there was no such thing as a Dwarf who doesn't love ale.
Thus, accompanying them in a drinking bout was the simplest way to win their friendship. You didn't even have to out-drink them; as long as everyone had a good time, you were considered a friend.
Looking at the barrel-sized mug before him, Fenyx sighed. He realized that the reason Asgard and Nidavellir got along so well was likely due to their shared love of alcohol as much as their mutual need for protection.
"When in Rome," Fenyx thought. He didn't want to stand out, and besides, with 'Ars Magna' to cheat with, even if all three hundred and one Dwarves teamed up, they wouldn't be able to drink him under the table.
The atmosphere at the table was heated. Between rounds, Eitri chatted with Fenyx and Thor.
"I heard that Vanaheim was recently plagued by war?"
Nidavellir might be remote, but it wasn't isolated. Given their close ties to Asgard, they were among the first to receive news from the capital.
"It's already been quelled," Thor said, taking a massive gulp of ale and wiping his mouth. "It took only a month!"
Eitri looked at Thor with surprise. "I heard there was someone in the army called the 'White Butcher.' They say he killed tens of thousands with a single move and wore a terrifying set of armor?"
"Cough... cough cough!"
Hearing that cringeworthy nickname, Fenyx, who was mid-drink, choked on his ale. Eitri turned his massive head to look at him in confusion.
"Hahaha!" Thor laughed. Though he didn't quite understand why Fenyx hated the name so much, he explained to Eitri, "He's the one they call the White Butcher. He just doesn't like people using the name!"
"It's you?"
Eitri looked at Fenyx with newfound interest. Because Thor had introduced him as a guest, Eitri hadn't made the connection; it hadn't occurred to him that Asgard would let a guest lead their armies.
"Is your armor truly that remarkable?" Eitri asked. He wasn't particularly interested in how many people Fenyx could kill in one go; Dwarves were only fascinated by weapons and equipment. The rumors of Fenyx's armor had piqued his professional curiosity.
"His armor is indeed strange," a slightly tipsy Thor chimed in. "He can summon it at will, and it can even transform into a sword!"
Thor's words made Eitri even more curious. He turned to Fenyx and asked, "Would you mind letting me see this suit of armor for myself?"
(End of Chapter)