Chapter 627: A Month in Ice

Chapter 627: Chapter 627: A Month in Ice

A month had passed since I stranded myself in this frozen shithole.

And let me tell you, Niflheim was losing its charm.

The initial thrill of the hunt, the primal joy of a good fight, it had all faded. Now it was just a chore. A tedious, bloody routine.

My day would start with a hearty breakfast of divine cheese and wine, followed by a quick cum session to clear my head—gotta keep the creative juices flowing, after all.

Then I’d teleport out of my cozy cabin and into the white.

Hunt. Kill. Collect. Return.

Repeat.

The monsters were all the same. Ice wolves, ice bears, ice serpents, the occasional frost giant with the intelligence of a brick and the temperament of a toddler.

Boring.

I had killed hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe.

They seem to respawn endlessly.

And the loot?

Useless.

Frost cores, ice shards, frozen pelts... all of them vendor trash, not even worthy of being used as a dildo.

The only thing that kept me going was the constant, nagging pressure of the fog. It was a race against my own memory. Every hunt was a test of my will, a way to prove to myself that I was still me, that I hadn’t been completely erased.

Fortunately, I had two things that helped me resist the effect of the fog.

First was the black orb that the nine death gods gave me back in the Nexus that contained my memories of the time that I served as the High-Queen of the Unspoken Realm.

The black orb has the function of storing and protecting memories, even from a realm like Niflheim. It’s an artifact of the highest order, a safe haven for my mind.

I tested it by staying in the fog for more than eight hours, and as expected, I did forget a few minutes of the hunt.

But the moment I returned to the cabin and touched the orb, the memories came flooding back.

As Herma explained it in her ’data’ language.

The black orb is like a data vault. When I ’use’ it, it’s like downloading a backup of my memories to my brain, while my brain is ’uploading’ new memories to the orb every second.

Ugh!... too much data for my horny mind to process.

Second was the miasma.

I carved runes all over my skin to keep a small, stable amount of it swirling around me. It was a thin, almost invisible film of darkness that clung to me like a second skin.

With it, I could stay in the fog for up to twelve hours before the headache started.

If not for the fear of my divinity getting corrupted by it, I would have summoned more.

But I was not that stupid.

Still, even with the two safeties, the fog was a pain in the ass.

Especially in navigating this realm.

With only twelve hours outside the cabin, I couldn’t go far. My ’map’ of Niflheim was still pathetically small, a tiny speck in a vast, uncharted ocean of ice and fog.

And for the love of my fucking holy tits! How the hell did I not manage to find another cave to make a second base? I have been exploring for a month now!

And don’t get me started on my little breeding experiment.

I was hoping to find a new, interesting monster to ’breed’ with, but so far, nothing.

All the monsters I’ve encountered were either golems or mindless beasts without a reproductive system.

Sigh... what a waste of my divine pussy.

A whole month. Thirty days of pristine, untouched, perfectly functional divine cunt and not a single decent cock to put in it. Not even a tentacle. Not even a weird crystal growth that looked like it might throb if I poked it hard enough.

Sigh.

I was officially bored.

Not normal bored.

The kind of boredom where you start considering punching a mountain just to see if it makes an interesting sound.

At least I made some progress with leveling my status that I always forgot existed.

Ding!

...

Name: Morgana Nosferat

Title: The Mother of Wolves. The Administrator. The Mother of Spiders. The Goddess of Breeding, Blood, War, and Night. Cockbreaker, Godslayer.

Race: Breeder

Gender: Futa

Class: The Mother of All

Rank: Silver Rank Goddess

Level: 270

Experience: 98375/7290000

Health: 18950/18950 (+2000)

Mana: 24700/24700 (+2000)

Stamina: 18950/18950 (+2000)

Divine Energy: 25700/25700 (+2000)

Faith: 8436

Pregnancy Status: None

Skill: [D Return] [Breeder’s D Form] [D Egg Transfer] [D Charm] [D Pregnancy Control] [D Seed and Egg Sack] [D Futanarization] [Unbreakable D Will] [D Take and Give] [D Womb Crest] [D Influence] [Essence Void Vault (D)] [Divine Breeding Dominion]

Passive Skill: [Breeder’s D Body] [D Fertile Body] [D Birth Recovery] [Offspring’s D Loyalty] [D Lactation] [Lustful D Pheromone] [D Cum Nutrition and Flavor] [Universal D Communication] [D Broodmother] [Breeder’s D Experience] [The Breeder’s D Grace] [The Mother’s D Word] [Verdant Dominion]

Blood Magic: [Crimson Forge] [Hemocraft] [Blood Seal]

Divine Skill: [Creation]

Seed sack (00/150):-

Egg sack (00/150): -

Dimensional Womb (0/200):

Breeder’s form: [Wolf Form] [Rabbit Form] [Arachne Form] [Primordial Demon Form] [Goddess Form] [Goblin Form] [Holstaur Form] [Dryad Form] [Centaur Form.][Minotaur Form.] [Valkyrie Form]

...

Looking at my status, I feel nothing but disappointment.

Not because of my stats or my skills, but because my long life-saving skill [Divine Return] has no effect.

It seems that the primordial laws of this realm are absolute.

Even my cheat skill to return back to my land of origin failed.

"Sigh..."

I was halfway through my cheese when the Nexus chat pinged.

[OneMoreGlass: Morgana! Sorry for the late reply, I was digging through the Greek archives. Good news and bad news.]

[Morgana: Give me the bad news first, I like to end on a high note.]

[OneMoreGlass: The bad news is that nobody has ever mapped Niflheim. People go in, people don’t come out, and the ones who do can’t remember what they saw.]

"No shit, Sherlock," I sighed.

[OneMoreGlass: The good news is that I found a mention of ’Rune-Stones of Remembrance’ scattered across the realm. Old markers made by something that lived there long before the Fog. They anchor memories in place.]

I stopped chewing.

"Markers," I said out loud. "Like waypoints?"

[It would explain how my waypoint system functions here at all,] Herma said. [Something in this realm is already designed to resist the Fog. If we find one, we may be able to build a proper network.]

"Hehehe~... a real adventure." I grinned, wiped the crumbs off my lips, and stood. "Herma, we’re going exploring."

[We have been exploring for a month.]

"No. We’ve been hunting for a month. Now we’re exploring. Big difference."

[Is it?]

"Shut up."

[Morgana: Grape Juice, you’re a goddess. I could kiss you. Where are these stones?]

[OneMoreGlass: That’s the other bad news. The text was vague. ’Where roots drink from the silent sea and the world’s spine touches the sky,’ or some other poetic nonsense.]

"Mystical bullshit, as usual."

[It’s better than nothing,] Herma countered.

[Morgana: Thanks, Kat. I’ll look into it. Talk later.]

I closed the chat and stared at the fireplace. Where roots drink from the silent sea... what did that even mean?

"Since the whole Norse pantheon is centered around the World Tree," I said, mostly to myself, "then the ’world’s spine’ has to be Yggdrasil. The question is, where is the ’silent sea’ here?"

"Where roots drink from the silent sea," I muttered again, swirling my wine. "Silent. Sea."

"Herma?"

[Yes?]

"What is a silent sea?"

[Most likely a metaphor.]

"I know that, dickhead. I mean, what could it actually be?"

[Given the nature of Niflheim, there are several possibilities. A frozen ocean. An underground body of water. A magical lake. A primordial sea...]

"Or?" I prompted.

[Or something that isn’t water at all.]

"Explain." I frowned.

[The phrase says ’where roots drink from the silent sea.’ If the writer was describing an actual ocean, they would likely have used a word such as ’ocean’ or ’waters.’ The choice of ’sea’ may be symbolic.]

"Symbolic of what?"

[Of the Fog. The Fog itself could be the ’silent sea.’ A vast, silent, ocean-like expanse that covers this realm.]

"So, we’re looking for roots that are drinking the Fog?" I asked, my mind racing.

[That is one possibility.]

"Hehe~... I’m a genius."

[You didn’t come up with it.]

"I directed the conversation. That’s basically the same thing."

[Of course.]

I left the half-finished wine on the table, grabbed my coat, and headed for the door.

"Alright, Herma. New mission. Find me a tree that’s drinking a sea of fog."

Slowly, my form began to shift. I grew taller, my bones creaking and reshaping, and two giant feathered wings erupted from my back.

The Valkyrie Form.

For some reason, the Valkyrie form was the only one that removed that discomfiting chill from the air.

I always had that feeling like I was a guest at a party I wasn’t invited to. But with the Valkyrie form... I felt like I belonged here.

My guess was that this form had a Norse origin, so it was naturally attuned to the Norse realms.

I mean, the Valkyries are the symbol of the Norse pantheon.

The whole problem with Odin started because he wanted my Valkyrie daughter Eir for himself.

Wooosh!

I spread my wings, and with a powerful flap, I shot into the air, leaving the safety of my cabin behind.

"Let’s see how much twelve hours of flight can get me."

...

[A/N: Sorry for the delay guys I was at the doctor I hope you understand]