From God of Lies to Lord of All Worlds

Chapter 169: A Thousand Years of Waiting and Guardianship

"Sigurd? The Dragon-Slaying Hero mentioned in both The Song of the Nibelungs and the Volsunga Saga, the man suspected to be a King?" Worthy of being an expert, Professor Tore Erik recalled the tale immediately.

When these two epics were mentioned, everyone except Olavur Thorsen wore completely blank expressions.

'Professor, aren't we geology students? Aren't you an anthropology professor? Spouting off various Ancient Ballads out of nowhere, what kind of situation is this?!'

"The Song of the Nibelungs? That ancient Germanic epic? The legendary poem of our ancestors?" a student of German descent asked with Curiosity. He had only heard fragments of the tale from his parents.

"The legendary Dragon Slayer Sigurd is my ancestor?" Olavur Thorsen was shocked. In Iceland, he had certainly heard the story of the Dragon Slayer. Or rather, in this Realm where ancient traditions were still perfectly preserved, every child had actually heard these Myths and Legends.

The so-called Saga was actually the mythic legends of Norse Mythology. These Ancient Ballads were only barely preserved in Iceland.

In those ancient legends, there were Gods, Heroes, Elves, and Dwarves, as well as those special Dragon-Slaying Stories!

"Yes!" the Dwarf Delian declared. "He is your ancestor. Within your body flows the Dragon Slayer's Blood!"

"Dragon Slayer's Blood?" Olavur Thorsen suddenly paused, somewhat at a loss. "Then what does this mean?"

"It means you possess the qualifications to inherit Sigurd's relics!" the Light Elf Orpheus proclaimed. "The Witch once said that the lands of the future would not know peace. Terrifying Dragons will descend once more, and a brave warrior capable of slaying dragons will step forward to become a new Hero!""And how could the family of a Dragon Slayer not have their own weapons? We borrowed Sigurd's weapons and armor, but had no way to return them. Therefore, we have been waiting here for your arrival!"

Hearing this, Olavur Thorsen suddenly understood. "You borrowed my ancestor's equipment to slay a dragon, and now you want to return these things to me, right?"

The two exchanged an embarrassed smile. "Yes, Sigurd has long since passed away. There is no longer any information about him even in Valhalla, so we could only wait here!"

"Why did you want to slay the dragon?" Olavur Thorsen asked further. "Was it a Wicked Dragon?"

"Yes, it was a Wicked Dragon that was about to devour the kingdom, which is why we chose to kill it!" Delian's voice echoed. "Unfortunately, we could not resist the Curse. Otherwise, this equipment would have been returned to its original owner long ago!"

As he spoke, he retrieved a box from the expanded room. Upon opening it, the contents revealed a red dragon scale and a crimson Two-Handed Greatsword!

"The Red Dragon Armor and Sigurd's Sword are both here!"

"Armor?" Olavur Thorsen blinked in surprise. He watched as the Dwarf Delian pressed the red dragon scale against his body. A brilliant flash of light erupted, and a red Cuirass materialized over him, drawing a collective gasp of shock from everyone around!

Orpheus explained, "This is something forged through a combination of Alchemy and Forging. It can be equipped and unequipped at will, making it extremely convenient to carry!"

Delian declared triumphantly, "This is a suit of armor forged by my people! It can be carried around easily without affecting your Combat Power! If it weren't for..."

He suddenly remembered something and stopped mid-sentence, his expression dimming with melancholy.

Beside him, the Light Elf Orpheus patted his shoulder in silent comfort.

Everyone acutely sensed that there was a deeper story behind this, but the pair showed no intention of elaborating. Watching Olavur Thorsen retract the Cuirass back into a single dragon scale, they nodded in satisfaction.

"Being able to use this armor is the hallmark of Sigurd's descendant. This finally fulfills our long-held wish. Even if we go to Helheim, we can face Sigurd and proudly tell him that we passed on his belongings! We gave them to his descendant!"

The two nodded slowly, looking as though they had achieved their ultimate desire. At the same time, they triggered a switch for an adjacent hidden chamber, revealing to the crowd two skeletal remains in the adjoining room—one plump and one slender.

"We are already dead, but our Souls still live on. Thus, we still had to shoulder the responsibility of returning these items to the descendant of Sigurd!"

"Now, our oath is fulfilled, and it is time for us to leave!"

Hearing these words, the profound sense of relief in their voices was palpable. In the eyes of many present, it was as if one of those Special Stories was unfolding before them.

The beginning of the tale involved a Light Elf and a Dwarf who wished to save a city and defeat a Dragon. They sought out the Dragon-Slaying Hero Sigurd, hoping to gain his assistance!

The Hero generously lent his armor and weapons to the duo, allowing them to come here, slay the Dragon, and save the local people.

And the ending of the story was that the two managed to defeat the Dragon, but ultimately lost their lives in the process.

In the end, during their final moments of life, they buried the Dragon and themselves, carving out a stone chamber here to quietly await their deaths.

Their Souls were then imprisoned in this place, enduring a lonely and endless wait until the arrival of the group!

What a heavy promise this was! What incredibly loyal individuals these two were!

For the sake of that single promise, they had waited a thousand years. And if they hadn't encountered the right person, perhaps they would have continued waiting forever? Such sheer dedication was truly worthy of admiration!

Speaking of this, Delian took the opportunity to complain about their language. "Your language is truly interesting. Why do you translate my race as 'Dwarves'? I'm not even short!"

He was roughly the same height as the rest of the group, indeed bearing no relation to the traditional concept of a Dwarf.

Professor Tore Erik replied, "In our Myths and Legends, your kind was once translated as gnomes, and a gnome is just another term for a Dwarf. That essentially set your name in stone!"

The professor seemed to have completely accepted their origins, even going so far as to help them fill in certain historical gaps.

His words, however, filled the pair with wonder. "Myths? We've become part of Myths and Legends now? It seems a very long time has passed indeed..."

"But that has nothing to do with us anymore. Once you go to Helheim, there's no guarantee you'll ever come back!"

"Descendant of Sigurd, remember your responsibility. You are the offspring of a Dragon Slayer. Do not let Wicked Dragons wreak havoc upon the Mortal realm!"

Then, as if triggering some sort of mechanism, their figures scattered into motes of light and vanished without a trace.

Before disappearing, they left behind a final instruction: "Everyone in this room may take one item. Consider it a reward for Adventurers!"

"After taking your chosen item, leave this place. Do not attempt to take things that do not belong to you. May the light of Alfheim shine upon your path ahead!"

Hearing these words and looking at the varied, though not overwhelmingly abundant, array of items around them, everyone's eyes lit up.

They had been too shell-shocked earlier to notice the specific details of their surroundings, but now they fully took everything in!

The stone chamber appeared small, but it contained quite a few treasures. Books, weapons, and various trinkets were all available.

"That Light Elf seemed to be a Sorcerer, right? Does that mean all these accessories have Magic engraved into them?" someone muttered. Immediately, everyone sprang into action, swarming toward the accessory section.

Very quickly, they secured their belongings. Some grabbed trinkets while others selected weapons—all items that appeared to be the most practical within the room.

Only Professor Tore Erik, relying on his deep well of Knowledge, pulled down a book.

"Professor, what kind of book is that?" someone asked with Curiosity.

"A History Book. One that details the history of the Gods and these ancient races!" Tore Erik stated. Compared to weapons and accessories that merely seemed to offer more power, Knowledge was far more crucial to him.

The crowd's gazes wavered. Was Knowledge truly more important than the Supernatural? They certainly didn't think so!

"Olavur, aren't you going to take anything?" someone asked with Curiosity, looking at the man who remained standing in place.

Olavur Thorsen shook his head. "I've already claimed what belonged to my ancestor, so I won't take anything else! Remember, everyone, only take one item!"

He possessed not a shred of greed. As an Icelander who understood the true essence of myths, he knew perfectly well that in Norse Mythology, the most fatal flaw a person could have was greed!

Even Odin had to gouge out his own eye in exchange for the Authority of Wisdom. If a Mortal overstepped their bounds, would the penalty stop at merely losing an eye? Every Boon comes with a hidden Price tag, and it would undoubtedly be a far more terrifying, deeply agonizing Price!

Olavur Thorsen stared intently at the group and asked in a low voice, "None of you took more than your share, right?"

"Of course not!" everyone answered in unison.

"Then let's go. We need to leave this place..." Professor Tore Erik added. "Take one last look around. Once we depart, we might never be able to return!"

The group swept their eyes over the chamber one final time before filing out one by one, arriving back at the entrance of the cave.

After everyone had exited, Rune Script materialized in the air once more. With a heavy rumble, the stone walls slid shut, sealing the cavern completely.

The group proceeded outward in an orderly fashion. The sky outside was growing dark, and they needed to head back immediately!

As the final person stepped out of the area, a massive Ice Block slid down, blocking the entrance entirely and causing everyone to look back in awe.

As expected of a legendary mystical adventure. Once they left, even the entrance would vanish completely...