The silence Marya left behind was devoured by the encroaching cold. She walked through the petrified forest, a speck of shadow against obsidian trunks wider than warships. The air was a physical weight, thick with the sharp tang of her own crackling Haki and the cloying sweetness of decay that seemed to seep from the frozen ground itself. The faint golden glow from Adam's distant roots barely penetrated the perpetual twilight here, casting long, distorted shadows that moved.
First, it was skittering. A sound like boulders scraping ice, multiplied a hundredfold. Fissures in the glassy bark, from beneath drifts of diamond-hard snow, they emerged. Not insects, but abominations of scale. Spiders the size of houses, their carapaces glistening like oil-slicked obsidian, mandibles clicking with a sound like snapping steel cables. Centipedes longer than galleons, segmented bodies undulating on countless legs, hissing plumes of frost vapor. Cockroaches armored like tanks, antennae whipping the air, emitting high-pitched shrieks that vibrated the teeth. Giant, blind rats with fur like frozen wire burst from snowdrifts, followed by salamanders the size of small hills, their skin bubbling with icy mucus. Above, leathery wings blotted out the faint light as bats with wingspans like storm clouds screeched, while hawk-like predators with beaks of black ice circled silently. Cassowaries taller than giants, feathers like frozen knives, charged through the petrified undergrowth, their booming footfalls shaking the ground. Wolves with fur like shards of glacial ice, mountain lions with claws that scraped sparks from the stone floor, bears whose breath froze the air before them, snakes thicker than ancient oaks coiling from icy pits – the First World's nightmares made flesh, drawn by the beacon of her Haki and the scent of living warmth.
Marya didn't break stride. Her golden eyes scanned the converging horrors with detached efficiency. As a frost-salamander lunged, jaws gaping wide enough to swallow a ship's prow, she sidestepped with impossible grace, her hand flashing out. Not a punch, but a precise, Haki-infused touch on its icy flank. CRACK! The creature froze mid-lunge, not in ice, but in a web of fissures spreading from the point of impact before shattering into a million frozen shards that rained down like lethal hail. A centipede swept its bladed tail; she dissolved into mist, reforming behind it, a single, whip-crack kick snapping its armored spine like kindling. Giant spiders spat webs of freezing silk; she flowed through them like smoke, reappearing amidst their cluster, a whirlwind of precise, devastating strikes that reduced chitinous bodies to pulverized ice. Rats were crushed underfoot by solidified mist. Bats fell, wings sheared by an unseen force. Cassowaries stumbled, legs shattered by pinpoint Haki bursts before they could close. She moved like death itself – silent, inevitable, leaving a trail of shattered, steaming carcasses and expanding pools of strangely iridescent, freezing blood that smelled of copper and spoiled honey. But for every monstrosity felled, two more surged from the shadows, a relentless tide of primordial fury. The air filled with unearthly shrieks, the crunch of breaking ice-carapaces, the wet thuds of massive bodies falling, and the ever-present, chilling hum of the deep earth. Snow, kicked up by the chaos, swirled in blinding vortices.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The ground trembled with a new rhythm – not the island's deep groan, but the thunderous footfalls of giants charging. From the direction of Adam's root, bursting through a curtain of swirling snow and icy mist, came the war party. Saul led, a mountain of fur and muscle, his roar shaking icicles from the petrified canopy. Bjorn, beside him, bellowed a challenge, his horned helmet gleaming dully. Einar, eyes sharp as flint, scanned the chaotic terrain. Sigrun raised her massive shield, deflecting a spray of freezing venom from a giant snake. Valgard's axes were already a blur, carving through a charging ice-wolf. Brenna, though younger, moved with fierce determination, her own axe biting deep into the leg of a lunging frost-bear. And at their head, a whirlwind of controlled fury, Gaban surged. Sea Breaker and Sky Cleaver weren't just axes in his hands; they were extensions of his will. Sea Breaker glowed with a deep blue light, each swing creating concussive waves of force that shattered insectile horrors and sent reptilian beasts tumbling. Sky Cleaver hummed with a keener energy, its edge shearing through frozen hide and chitin like parchment, leaving trails of shimmering, super-cooled air. Snow and ice exploded around them, marking their violent passage.
Chained to the root, Loki's head snapped up. He felt them – the familiar, powerful signatures of Saul, Gaban, and the warriors, a stark contrast to Marya's cold, sharp presence. He strained against the Seastone chains, the muscles in his arms and chest bunching like granite, the frozen metal biting deeper into his flesh. Frost shook from his horned helmet and long, matted hair. Beneath the linens wrapped around his eyes, unseen fury burned.
"SAUL! GABAN!" Loki's voice boomed across the frozen hellscape, amplified by the cavern walls of the Adom Tree, momentarily drowning out the shrieks of the beasts. "RELEASE ME! You fools! She cannot be allowed to go further! She doesn't know what she's stirring! RELEASE ME!"
His pleas fell on deaf ears amidst the cacophony of battle. Saul slammed a giant frost-bat out of the air with a backhand, his focus on carving a path through the swarming horrors towards Marya's distant, flickering Haki signature. Gaban, cleaving a path through a cluster of giant armored cockroaches with a devastating spin of Sky Cleaver, didn't even turn his head. "Busy, Your Highness!" he bellowed back, his voice thick with sarcasm and the exertion of battle. "Tending the garden!"
Loki roared in pure, incandescent rage. He threw his weight against the chains again, the massive links groaning like tortured gods, but the Seastone held. "YOU BLIND, STUBBORN OAFS!" he screamed, spittle freezing instantly. "SHE'S HEADED FOR THE SEAL! THE ABYSS! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT SHE'LL UNLEASH! YOU'RE ALL GOING TO DIE DOWN HERE!"
Gaban just grinned, a fierce, reckless expression visible even through the swirling snow and chaos. He parried a strike from a giant ice-snake's tail with Sea Breaker, the impact ringing like a gong, and drove Sky Cleaver point-first into the frozen ground. A shockwave rippled outwards, freezing a pack of charging rats solid. "Sounds like a Tuesday!" he yelled back, wrenching his axe free. "CHARGE!" He pointed Sea Breaker towards the swirling vortex of snow and violence where Marya's silver-black Haki pulsed like a cold star. "Get to Little Shadow before the local wildlife decides she's lunch!"
With renewed roars, the giants surged forward, a tsunami of fur, muscle, and steel, crashing into the tide of resurrected nightmares. Trees cracked and toppled under the force of colliding behemoths. Snow billowed in blinding clouds. The frozen tundra of Elbaph's Underworld became a maelstrom of violence, illuminated by the dying gold of the Adam Tree, the dark, shifting shade, the flashes of Haki, and the desperate, unheard screams of a chained self-proclaimed god.
The maelstrom of fur, frost, and fury seemed to part before Marya like a reluctant sea. She turned, not with alarm, but a cool assessment, as Gaban, Saul, and their warriors carved a bloody path through the remnants of the monstrous tide towards her. Steam rose from shattered carapaces and streaming, iridescent blood that smelled of copper and spoiled sanguine, mingling with the sharp tang of her own crackling Haki.
Gaban skidded to a halt, Sea Breaker dripping viscous, freezing slime, Sky Cleaver humming faintly with residual energy. His eyes swept the carnage surrounding Marya – shattered ice-wolves, pulverized giant spiders, the still-twitching leg of a colossal frost-centipede – and then flicked to the pristine, unbloodied blade still sheathed at her back. A familiar, reckless grin split his face, cutting through the battle-grime.
"Little Shadow!" he bellowed over the dying shrieks of beasts and the groans of falling, petrified trees. "Leave some for the rest of us, eh? Quite the welcoming committee you've got, and you haven't even drawn the fancy toothpick yet!" He gestured expansively at the trail of frozen devastation leading back to Adam's root.
Marya merely lifted a single, elegant brow. At that moment, a massive frost-bear, its pelt crusted with ice shards, lumbered out of the swirling snow behind Saul, roaring and raising claws like frozen scythes. Marya didn't turn. Her golden eyes stayed fixed on Gaban. She simply raised her left hand, fingers slightly curled. A visible pulse of silver-black Haki, dense as obsidian, shot outwards.
CRACK-SHATTER!
The bear froze mid-swing, not encased in ice, but imploding from within. Its form fractured into a million crystalline shards that rained down like lethal hail, silencing its roar instantly. Only a steaming, frozen crater remained.
Saul's jaw dropped, his eyes wide with pure, unadulterated awe. "By the World Tree's roots…" he breathed, the sound barely audible over the distant chaos.
Gaban chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated in his chest. "Good to see all our sparring hasn't gone to waste! Sharp as ever, lass!" He hefted Sea Breaker, its blue glow intensifying as he eyed the next wave of skittering horrors emerging from the gloom – giant armored cockroaches hissing plumes of frost. "Now, care to share what grand sightseeing brought you down to Elbaph's charming basement? What're you huntin'?"
Marya's gaze shifted past him, towards the oppressive darkness at the edge of the frozen tundra, where the faint golden glow of Adam's roots seemed to be swallowed by an even deeper shadow. "Freyja's temple," she stated, her voice calm and certain amidst the din. "I believe I have discovered its true location." She pointed towards the encroaching abyss. "Beneath the deepest roots of Adam."
A collective intake of breath came from the giants. Saul stepped forward, his massive brow furrowed with deep concern, momentarily forgetting the encroaching cockroach swarm. "Beneath…? Marya, no one has ever ventured beyond the known Underworld. The sagas speak only of… of the Abyss. Of madness. It's forbidden ground!"
Marya turned her sharp gaze on him, cutting off his protest like a blade. "Saul," her voice was flat, devoid of heat, but carrying immense weight. "Do not allow the unknown, false beliefs, or ancient dogma to be the driving force of your decisions." She gestured towards the still-steaming crater where the frost-bear had stood. "Challenge the unseen. See for yourself."
As if to punctuate her point, a giant ice-rat, its fur like frozen needles, burst from a snowdrift beside Valgard, aiming for his leg. Marya didn't even look. A flick of her wrist, another precise pulse of invisible Haki. The rat popped like an overripe fruit, splattering Valgard's boots with freezing gore. The warrior blinked, momentarily startled, then grinned fiercely.
Gaban barked a laugh, shaking frozen viscera from Sky Cleaver. "Point taken, Little Shadow! Though I doubt Freyja left a welcome mat." He then sobered slightly, eyeing the renewed tide of nightmares – Bjorn bellowing as he slammed his horned helmet into a charging ice-wolf, Sigrun raising her shield to deflect a spray of freezing venom from a serpent, Einar calmly putting an arrow through the glowing eye of a swooping frost-bat, Valgard roaring as his twin axes became a whirlwind against the cockroach swarm, and Brenna darting in to hamstring a towering cassowary with a swift axe-strike before dodging its retaliatory kick. "Problem is," Gaban continued, nodding at the chaotic battlefield rapidly reforming around them, "you'll never get a quiet moment for temple hunting with this lot throwing a never-ending housewarming party."
Marya's lips thinned almost imperceptibly – the closest she came to an annoyed expression. She acknowledged his observation with a slight tilt of her head. "An obvious impediment. I can locate the entrance alone, but…"
Gaban cut her off, his grin returning, fierce and determined. He slammed Sea Breaker and Sky Cleaver together, creating a concussive CLANG that momentarily stunned the nearest creatures. "But nothing! We'll handle the local wildlife! Consider it… housekeeping!" He jerked his head towards the dark edge of the tundra. "You just find that temple! Go!"
Marya's gaze swept the eager, battle-ready faces of the giants forming a protective half-circle around her – Saul cracking his knuckles, ready to wrestle a frost-wyrm; Bjorn lowering his head for another charge; Einar nocking another arrow; Sigrup bracing her shield; Valgard spinning his axes; Brenna wiping gore from her cheek with a fierce grin. A flicker of something – perhaps the barest hint of acknowledgment – passed through her stoic golden eyes.
"Good luck to you," she stated simply, her voice cool but devoid of sarcasm.
Then, without ceremony, she dissolved. Her form vanished into a swirling cascade of silvery mist that flowed like liquid mercury over the frozen ground, slipping between the legs of a lunging ice-salamander, flowing around Sigrun's shield, and vanishing into the blinding swirl of snow and shadow that marked the edge of the known Underworld, heading towards the consuming darkness beneath Adam's deepest roots.
Gaban watched the mist vanish, then turned back to the snarling, skittering tide with a wild grin. "Right, you ugly lot!" he roared, Sea Breaker glowing like captured ocean depth, Sky Cleaver humming with the promise of storm winds. "Who's first for the chopping block?!" Behind him, chained and forgotten, Loki's impotent scream of warning was drowned out by the renewed, thunderous battle cries of Elbaph's mightiest warriors as they threw themselves into the path of the primordial onslaught.
The silvery mist flowed like a river of quicksilver over the frozen hellscape, leaving the thunderous cacophony of battle – Gaban's roaring defiance, Saul's earth-shaking blows, the shrieks of dying behemoths – fading rapidly behind. Marya moved with silent purpose, the chaotic energy of the giants and the primordial beasts replaced by an oppressive, deepening stillness. The gritty diamond-snow beneath her mist-form began to change. The permafrost gave way to smoother, colder surfaces – sheets of volcanic glass, black as a starless void, reflecting the faint, dying gold of Adam's roots high above like distorted, dying stars. The air grew thicker, hotter, the cloying sweetness of decay replaced by the sharp, acrid sting of sulfur and ozone, laced with an underlying metallic tang like spilled blood left to rust.
Then, she saw them.
Crimson streaks.
Not paint. Not lava. They looked like frozen lightning bolts or… impossibly vast spiderwebs, rendered in blood that refused to dry. They snaked across the obsidian plains, jagged and vibrant against the absolute black, converging like tributaries to a single, terrifying source. They climbed the sheer face of a colossal, glass-smooth mountain that loomed ahead, a monolith of darkness that seemed to absorb the feeble light, culminating at its base.
There, carved directly into the mountainside, stood a Massive Archway.
It dwarfed even the giant structures of Sunlit Elbaph. Its frame was formed of the same volcanic glass, polished to an unnatural sheen, but veined with those same crimson streaks that pulsed with a faint, internal light, as if liquid fire flowed sluggishly beneath the surface. The arch itself was stark, unadorned, yet radiated an age and power that made the surrounding stone feel newborn. The crimson streaks clearly originated from within its impenetrable darkness, bleeding outwards onto the plains and up the mountain face.
Marya's mist-form flowed to the threshold. The air here vibrated with a low, subsonic hum that resonated in her very bones, a counterpoint to the distant tremors of the giants' battle. The scent of sulfur was overpowering, mixed with something else… ancient stone, cold iron, and the faintest whisper of wildflowers preserved in amber. She solidified, her boots landing silently on the obsidian floor just outside the arch. The transition from the chaotic cold to this silent, pressurized heat was jarring.
She stepped through the Arch.
The moment she crossed the threshold, light bloomed. Not flames, but intricate lines of cool, blue-white energy ignited along the ceiling and walls of a vast, downward-sloping tunnel. They were clearly artificial, yet ancient – crystalline nodes embedded in the glassy rock pulsed rhythmically, casting sharp, geometric shadows. The tunnel itself was perfectly cylindrical, wide enough for a giant to walk comfortably, its walls unnervingly smooth. The crimson streaks continued along the floor, a glowing path leading inexorably down. The air grew denser, warmer, the hum intensifying, vibrating the soles of her boots. The metallic scent grew stronger, almost masking the underlying iron and floral notes. She descended, the blue-white light her only guide, the silence absolute save for the hum and the soft click of her boots on the glassy floor. The slope was gentle but unrelenting, taking her deeper than the frozen tundra above.
After a descent that felt both timeless and measured, the tunnel opened into a vast, circular chamber. The blue-white light continued here, illuminating the space with clinical clarity. Directly ahead, the main tunnel continued downward, its end lost in darkness. But branching off from this central hub were three smaller arched tunnels, each identical in size but utterly distinct in their adornment.
Carved above each archway in deep relief, crafted from a shimmering, pearl-white material that seemed to absorb and amplify the blue light, were symbols:
Left Arch: A Winged Serpent, coiled and poised to strike, its scales intricately detailed, wings outstretched as if caught mid-flight. Its eyes, formed from chips of dark, volcanic glass, seemed to follow her.
Right Arch: A Three-Headed Dog, each head snarling in a different direction, jaws wide, teeth bared like daggers. The middle head held a stylized bone in its jaws. The carving radiated a palpable sense of menace and guarding fury.
Center Arch: A Yule Cat. Not cute or domesticated, but a colossal, primal feline rendered with flowing, powerful lines. It stood alert, one massive paw raised, its tail held high like a banner. Its eyes, unlike the serpent's, were formed from chips of warm, golden amber that seemed to hold a flicker of internal light.
Marya paused at the junction. Her golden eyes scanned each symbol with analytical precision, weighing their implications. The Winged Serpent spoke of cunning, poison, perhaps hidden knowledge – but also danger. The Three-Headed Dog screamed guardian, obstacle, a test of strength – Cerberus at the gates. The Yule Cat…
Her mind flashed back to the vibrant image in the book: Freyja in her chariot, pulled not by stags, but by two sleek, powerful cats. The Vanir goddess's sacred animals. Symbols of protection, independence, and a fierce, untamed sovereignty. The amber eyes of the carved cat seemed to hold a silent challenge, a familiar echo of the goddess's own trapped duality.
A faint tremor, deeper and more resonant than any before, vibrated through the chamber floor, making the blue-white lights flicker momentarily. The crimson streaks on the floor pulsed brighter.
Marya didn't hesitate. Her path wasn't one of serpentine cunning or brute force confrontation with guardians. It was the path tied to the goddess she sought, the path marked by the creatures who once drew her chariot. With a final glance at the amber-eyed feline, she turned and walked purposefully into the Center Arch, the tunnel marked by the Yule Cat. The cool blue light illuminated her path as she vanished into its depths, leaving the silent chamber and its watching symbols behind. The hum deepened, resonating with the rhythm of ancient roots and slumbering power.