Kapitel 2: Chapter 1
Hello everyone, I wanted to give you a heads-up that the chapters will be extremely long. To give you an idea, this chapter is 8,540 words long, and I hope this won't discourage you. Let me repeat: the chapters will be very long. If that doesn't bother you, then happy reading, my dear readers!
My hand broke through the final thin layer of metal. Habitually, I cleared away the remaining dirt that had accumulated inside. My consciousness could hardly believe that I had succeeded. But… through this hole, I really could get out.
With some effort, I emerged from my prison. Over time, I had even grown accustomed to it and had come to regard it as something of a home. Sometimes it was even comfortable there. The silence… the peace…
I lay for a while in the earth, in some dirty burrow, like a mole, running my hands over the steel shelter that had provided me refuge for… I don't know how long. Eternity? A piece of eternity? Half?
There was no way to count the days in complete isolation from sound and light. I would have gone mad long ago, but it seemed my uniqueness allowed me to keep my mind in the same state as my body.
Or did it only seem that way? I don't know, but I still feel a sense of vitality within me. It hasn't quieted, hasn't fallen asleep. I still have access to mathematics, I can calmly work with numbers and letters, remember the faces of my people, though not all of them. I admit, I've forgotten some. Maybe even all of them—but the imagination, as the inhabitants of Midgard have always boasted, allowed me to supplement their images, making them enchantingly magnificent in their beauty.
Finishing my foolish nostalgia, I was about to make a confident lunge forward but froze. Fear gripped me. The fear that, once I got out, I wouldn't find my homeland, wouldn't find the Kingdom of Zar, which had conquered the entire planet, giving its people a single faith and a single language.
None of that would be there. Everything would be gone, turned to dust. No language, no people, no architectural monuments, including my statues towering up to one hundred meters, fortified with magic and standing in all the major cities and continents, demonstrating the power of their master.
Or maybe there's just water? The very deluge… I had always remembered it, and the recent conversation with the Aesir seemed to have memorized it by heart, as I had replayed it so often in my mind. As if it were… an eternity ago.
Yes… it's worth acknowledging and calling things by their names.
My hands, on instinct, as soon as I distracted myself, began making jerky movements, gripping the nearest surface and starting to scratch it, wearing it down as I had with my tomb. Layer by layer, particle by particle, until the metal yielded and released me from its embrace. It was as if I was born again, emerging from the embrace of an overly responsible mother.
But everything comes to an end, even fear, so I pressed forward.
The earth, compared to the steel of Nidavellir, felt soft and pliable. Only I had no idea where I needed to crawl. My sense of balance was failing, giving me no real clue where was up and where was down. Trusting my intuition, I began to dig.
I dug a tunnel like a contemptible earthworm, in complete darkness and silence. No sound echoed around, making me believe more and more that I was alone. The only person in the entire universe. Maybe even Midgard no longer exists? Is it gone, and am I drifting in space, in a piece of some rock?
Maybe the Aesir don't exist anymore either? My vengeance will never be fulfilled and will forever leave me unsatisfied? That would be terrible… Almost as awful as losing again and being locked in another similar prison for another eternity.
Funny… It seems Bor never found a way to kill me. Or maybe he never even tried? Perhaps he, along with Odin, simply forgot about me? How good is an Aesir's memory? Is it the same as a human's? But will I remember my enemy's face? A vivid image remains in my memory, as bright as the face of my beloved wife, Yaeda—though I know well that this dark-eyed beauty had a mole under her eye, yet there is no mole on her face in my memory.
Higher and higher… it seemed I was crawling correctly, and still… the soil was becoming moist. Am I right, and is Midgard still flooded? But how much time has passed since my imprisonment?! Is the world still paying the price to Asgard?!
Or maybe I haven't been gone that long? Ten years? Twenty? A hundred? Not the slightest idea. It could have been a thousand or ten thousand years.
Anger gave me additional energy, so I dug even more furiously. Ah… and they say you become calmer with age. They lie.
The earth literally tore apart under the force of my hands and fingers. It was a terribly unfamiliar feeling. I had the impression that I had become stronger. Maybe it's true? After all, so much time working and scratching at the steel prison to the limit of my strength… Maybe it has strengthened me?
I'll find out on the surface, whatever it may be.
My grown-out hair was quite bothersome. How I longed to take another fiery bath! I hope that tradition still exists here? Or rather, that it has been recreated… after all, any reasonably skilled sorcerer could cast a fire protection spell.
Under the pressure of silly thoughts, and lately, indeed, I don't know for how long—all my thoughts have been like this—I managed to reach a level where the earth was not just moist but had turned into a stream of wet mud, which began to flood my burrow.
What did I do first? I tasted it. Salty. It seems I'm in the sea. If, of course, this isn't the deluge. I wonder how long I'll have to swim before I see land? Maybe whole years.
And if I end up at the bottom of the ocean? The water column would create problems even for floating… Walking on the seabed? Ha! No, I'll surface, no matter what!
Earthly forces, how I want to feel something! Water, wind, earth… Not the one around me, but the one up above. Finally see the light.
Funny. If it weren't for my invulnerability, my eyes would surely have been blinded by such light, accustomed as they were to the darkness. But as it is… I don't care.
The water was quite distracting; it was cold and made my hands slip, but I didn't mind. This was no longer the endless scratching of my own prison, this was an adventure! Some variety! Faster, faster!
With each moment, the flow of sea water increased, hindering my digging. The current and force knocked me off my feet, forcing me to struggle not to be swept back into the depths of my own tunnel. But could something like that stop me? No.
My hands continued their familiar movements, and very quickly, I found myself within the murky, muddy, dark water. Yes! I've dug through! My intuition didn't fail, as always… Now the final lunge…
Applying colossal effort, I slowly moved forward, directly against the water pressure. And another lunge revealed no land ahead, only the icy ocean. Wonderful… I might try to reach the surface of this body of water.
Emerging from the dirty burrow, I felt the water enveloping my body. And also… I was free! I could move wherever I wanted and however I wanted! All roads were open to me!
Euphoria flooded my consciousness, disregarding even the impenetrable darkness. I still hadn't seen anything all this time and had grown used to the darkness. But I could distinguish distant sounds and a hum. Was that the song of whales? It was unclear...
I knew how to swim, and my body remembered what it was like, so I boldly headed upward. My sense of balance was now more confidently indicating the direction.
The world, I am coming! Wait for me!
I didn't feel any pressure: it seems I had long since adapted, since in any other situation my consciousness would at least have noted this fact. Now, whether it was present or not, made no difference to me. However, I felt how easy it had become for me to move. Was it just a sensation, or was there something to it?
After all, I had been chipping away at the toughest dwarven steel for hundreds and thousands of years, sparing no effort. Had it paid off? I hope so! A bit of strength wouldn't hurt. After all, in the best case, if people still existed in Midgard, I'd have to start everything over. To go through the process of seizing power again—through strength or cunning—and then unite humanity, giving it a purpose—a true enemy!
Asgard... those "divine" leeches who subjugated my world, keeping us as slaves. Skalds sang "legends" about their drunken escapades, when the "gods" did whatever pleased their souls, while the despicable servants—we—could only praise them, hoping that the new tribute and the next demands of the powerful would be bearable for our homeland.
My jaws clenched, but the old anger was gone. It had decayed over the time of my aimless existence... Though... not entirely aimless. Vengeance and a desire for a better future for my people. Is that a worthy dream? Certainly! And I would tear out the throat of anyone who says otherwise.
I continued swimming, not seeing anything around and not understanding how much I had covered. A lot. Fortunately, I didn't need to breathe. It made sense, as otherwise I would have simply not survived. Ha-ha! For some reason, I recalled an interesting moment when Bor tried to poison me or flood my insides with that very steel he eventually used as a cell. But it was pointless, as my stomach dissolved everything that entered it.
By the way, this reminded me that I hadn't eaten anything all this time, except for iron dust, which had to go somewhere. Yes, I had to eat it, as I knew my stomach would digest absolutely everything that came into it. Completely, without a trace.
Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to chip away at my prison... But never mind.
Oh, did I see something? No... Definitely not! It's light! I can make out the contours of my body! And I see light ahead, in the depths of the water! It made me accelerate, even though until now it seemed I was swimming at the upper limit of my speed. But no: apparently, I wasn't motivated enough.
Faster, faster, more!
The light was blinding, but I didn't avert my eyes. Blindness didn't threaten me.
And after a while, with a sharp splash, like a dolphin, I broke through to the surface. It seems I even overdid it, as I leaped into the air, but then fell back down immediately.
"Ha-ha-ha!"—a loud, powerful, uncontrolled laugh erupted. "I am free! I have returned!"
The air tasted and smelled repugnant, making me cough with the unfamiliarity, but I quickly recovered. It was probably the tomb affecting me. It distorted sensations that were not used to this. Nothing... I will adapt quickly.
Tears came to my eyes, but not from the brightness, which I didn't care about, but from the emotions. I hadn't realized how much I missed this. Water was getting into my throat and nose, but I ignored it. Really, what a trivial matter!
Instead, I began to look around, but the waves and the overcast sky didn't give me a clear view of where I had ended up.
A flood—a nasty thought struck my mind, which I pushed away. No, it can't be that the entire surface of Midgard is still submerged! That's nonsense! Impossible!
"I'm just in the sea, that's all," I whispered to myself, and then decided to try climbing onto the crest of a wave to at least get a look around.
Done and done. And although it took me a long time to succeed, on the next wave I was able to get exactly where I wanted, looking around.
I see. I see land or just a dark strip on the horizon. But that's what I need. I am sure of it.
Well, I am facing the final, I hope, stage of my liberation. Of course, if it turns out not to be a rocky piece of land or an empty sandy island. Then I would have to set out to sea again, but this time choosing a direction, trusting my intuition. Sooner or later, I would reach somewhere.
Heh, I am finally convinced that it is not a flood! Since land is visible, other pieces of land must have survived. Therefore, there will be people. We—are just like that, adapting to any adversity and problems, solving everything that is thrown at us.
Humanity cannot be destroyed by gods or demons.
Without holding back my emotions, I increase my speed to the maximum. It seems I am matching the best galleys of my kingdom, but it still seemed insufficient. Naturally, compared to Asgardian technology... Even a bit of magic helped to level out the technological lag from the "gods". I hope it has developed over this time. Maybe we can at least surpass those damned Aesir in something?
Periodically, about once an hour, I "caught" a wave and checked if I was heading in the right direction. And each time I confirmed that I was. Only, more and more doubts arose in my soul. It had long been confirmed that on the shore of this sea there was something entirely different, non-human.
Huge buildings, taller than Asgardian ones, unknown ships made of iron... Who inhabits my planet? What beings have enslaved humanity?
"But if there is still someone... just one," I whisper, not slowing down. "Just someone..."
I can already see the shore without any effort. Moreover, during my swim, the waves have decreased. Either the sea has calmed down, or it's customary for waves to diminish as they approach the shore. Who knows? The sky here also became less overcast, and the sun even appeared—though leaning towards the horizon—so there was a chance that I had originally surfaced in a mild storm.
The iron ships were impressive. Especially how they stayed afloat. Apparently, talented wizards were involved. Good... If, of course, they are Midgardians, not disgusting xenos who have enslaved my people.
Well... or not allies, like the dark elves. In principle, I am not a racist and I get along with all races. After all, I had many representatives of cosmic species in my harem.
The ships cruised around the strait but did not interfere with me. Too far. Even if they ran into me, they would not cause any harm. Hmm... but it's better to avoid this, as my body could destroy the magic of these iron vessels, causing them to sink. Correct: I need to stay away and dive if a ship comes in my path.
I mentally nodded to myself, not wanting to foolishly get into conflict with my possible kin or allies before I understood the situation.
However, after a while, a smile appeared on my face. Although it was approaching evening, I clearly saw people on the sandy beach! It was them! Although they were oddly half-naked, but that's even better. If, of course, they are not slaves. Then it would be less pleasant... But, in any case, humanity has survived! And against them, I would easily pass as one of my own, despite the lack of clothing. Moreover, while I was swimming, I managed to clean myself from the dirt, which should also play to my advantage.
Still, I will have to meet with the local archon or lord, I don't know who they have here? The head of the city, in short. In any case, I will need to talk to this person—I hope, a person!—and learn about the situation and life around. At least how long I have been imprisoned.
Hmm...—the thought struck me for the first time that... they might not want to talk to me. After all, who will I appear to them as? An unknown wanderer or even a madman, calling himself Zariaks in honor of a great hero of bygone days.
No, foolish head, they won't even recognize me! After all, Odin probably didn't lie, so all mentions of my name were erased from the pages of history on this land. What a pity...
Then the situation gets even worse. The alternative? Suppose I pretend to be a person who lost his memory due to a shipwreck. But the first sorcerer who tries to read my thoughts or simply confirm whether I am lying or not will understand that I am invulnerable to magic. What will this lead to? If the head of the guard is a fool—arrest. If smart—a conversation. But what should I tell him? The truth? He won't believe it. But he might confirm that I indeed possess an invulnerable body. What will that lead to? To conflict, as they will try to enslave me. I'll become a local sensation, rumors will start, and they might even reach Asgard, if they continue to control Midgard. They can't help but control it - after what happened!
"Just… the buildings, the structures around here! If all of this is humanity's doing, then… I'm simply at a loss for words. Amazing!"
"Focus, Zariak! You can admire the city later!"
Ahem, making up stories about myself or confronting local mages isn't an option. I can't afford to take risks like that. But what to do? I don't know! I simply don't know what lies ahead!
The local society, it seems, has changed drastically… It's like I'm interacting with a new people. What are their rules and traditions? I need to be careful…
I notice a man standing on the shore, right where I'm heading, with his arms crossed over his chest. His direct gaze is fixed on me. Is he waiting? Maybe… Yet, he's dressed, or rather undressed, exactly like the others. He doesn't look like a guard or a mage. Just one of the locals?
Hmm, and I don't see other people in the water. Have I broken some laws? Who knows!
"Haha!" I couldn't help but laugh as I emerged onto the shore. My legs feel the sand. It's some kind of support under me.
"What a memorable moment!" I exclaimed with a broad smile.
Out of habit, after shaking myself off like a dog, I almost swayed. My legs wobbled but quickly steadied themselves. It made me smirk. It's been a long time since I felt like this…
Standing proudly, I feel both my greatest success and a slight uncertainty.
"'Sir, are you alright? Did you lose your clothes? Would you like to borrow some swim trunks? Are you drunk? Did you fall off a ship?'" The man waiting for me on the shore said something. I wish I knew what. He kept rattling on, but judging by the intonation, his speech was full of questions, which, logically, makes sense. I'd start with them too if I were him. He definitely doesn't seem like a guard or a mage. Maybe he's a hero or some eccentric wizard who decided to have some fun?
I didn't know how to respond. Instead, I looked at the other people, finally confirming that these were indeed Midgardians. A weight lifted off my shoulders! I had a fleeting thought that they could be Aesir or Vanir, who are hard to distinguish from humans from a distance. But no—typical Midgardians, though they are somewhat shorter and most are quite overweight. Maybe this is the noble beach? In my kingdom, there wasn't anything like this, but in other peoples we conquered, such things were not uncommon. I mean, the aristocracy who would not take care of themselves and were not warriors. They often became so fat they resembled walruses.
Here it looks like something similar. Although… they could also be pampered members of the merchant class or some other elite…
Why am I sure it's the elite? Try finding a fat peasant! They were all, without exception, lean and stocky because they had to work from dawn to dusk. Even in winter, these people didn't stay home, as there were always various tasks. Here… oh, these people are clearly not engaged in any physical activity. They resemble bureaucrats from my magistrates. Only in the kingdom of Zar did I mandate compulsory physical training for all social classes, even slaves. Of course, the latter did not train with weapons, but that was the only difference.
Coming across a particularly overweight, specially fattened old black man, I barely managed to keep from grimacing. The initial joy of meeting people had faded. However, as I scanned the rows, I noticed that there were still a few men or women with the build of a warrior. Unfortunately, they were critically few.
Meanwhile, not only was I examining the surroundings. People around were also starting to turn their gazes towards me. Almost all of them were lying around, basking in the sun like seals: some on the sand, on spread towels, and some on thin benches covered with fabric. Some were shaded by awnings, apparently from the sun, which was now barely visible as evening approached. But at least there were no clouds here, unlike the section of the sea from where I came.
At the same time, a concern rose in my soul that these people might be in the position of slaves or prisoners. I mean… who would voluntarily want to be fat? Perhaps they are prohibited from physical activity and training? That would explain a lot!
My sharp gaze spots children joyfully playing and running around. Meanwhile, many Midgardians were talking to each other and did not seem burdened by the weight of problems or their situation. No, they don't look like slaves. There are no overseers or magical tattoos marking them as bound to a master.
And by the way, some were actually swimming. I noticed a few spots in the distance from where I landed. But very few. So either they had permission or I was initially wrong, and there was some other reason why people didn't go into the water. Maybe it's too cool for it now or it's not the season? It could also be something unknown to me. Perhaps it's a privilege only available to the elite?
Anyway, I don't see any guards nearby, so I'm lucky.
"'Sir, are you alright? Did you hit your head?'" The unfamiliar man didn't stop, making new and new, meaningless to me, noises. I sincerely didn't want to start a conflict with him. That would only set the locals against me. As I said, he didn't look like a guard either, so there would be no use in it. Therefore, the best decision was simply to leave. If he tries to stop me by force, then at least there will be some reason to respond.
So I did just that. I walked around him, though I was tempted to shove him with my shoulder, so he would fall on the sand. But I suppressed this foolish impulse.
Another shout came from behind, but nothing more happened. He neither chased me nor tried to use magic.
I walked straight ahead, wherever my eyes led me. But not along the beach, but towards the majestic city. Truly a "city of dreams." If only I had such a city in the heyday of the kingdom of Zar. Ha! Even Malekit would be envious! Though that vile elf was already envious, but that was his nature, which could never be changed. I wonder if he's still alive? Dark elves, like light ones, are not subject to aging, only to so-called "weariness of life."
Looking around, I easily notice curious glances. They are mostly directed at my torso or below my waist. It makes sense, since I was completely naked. But I didn't think the locals would be so interested. They wore almost no clothing either. Women, like courtesans, flaunted their appetizing bodies, covered only by nominal rags, which did more to stimulate the imagination than to actually conceal anything. Men wore only short loincloths barely covering their dignity.
Still, I was wrong. Many people paid attention to my face too, but with my long mane of hair, it wasn't so easy to see. I'll need to get rid of these locks soon.
With slight regret, as I looked at these people, I finally realized that I wasn't mistaken: they have indeed become shorter. I judge by myself, as I considered my height tall but within reasonable limits. But here, almost everyone barely reached my shoulders, and only a few to my nose. They've dwindled? That's bad… It means they've become even worse warriors. Unless there are more heroes now? They are a special class of people who always stood out with some unique power, mostly physical. There were those who could lift a bull with one hand, the fast ones whom the eye could barely follow, and those who could do truly unimaginable things: fly, move objects with the power of their minds, shoot energy beams from their hands as if from Asgardian cannons. Though… there were always few of them. Even after conquering all of Midgard, I found only slightly more than a hundred of these unique individuals, half of whom were completely useless in war, as their abilities were either purely peaceful or too weak.
Mentally nodding to myself, I concluded that heroes would not be able to change this world. The hope lies in skilled and advanced magic. The sorcerers must have become stronger. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been able to build such a city and steel ships floating like palaces.
Though, truthfully, these ships didn't look very beautiful, but maybe it's the new fashion? Quite possible…
I couldn't help but grimace again upon seeing a fat, specially fattened old black man. His body occupied two benches, the legs of which seemed ready to snap at any moment. He spread out like a blot from careless painting. And the most unpleasant thing—there were plenty of such people! Maybe slightly less bulky, but just barely!
Moreover, the others didn't seem to pay any attention to this, interacting with them as if nothing was amiss!
Men, women, children… Where is the ruler looking? His subjects are growing fat like pigs! Here, a skilled healer is needed, who would return everything to how it was, and then enforce a strict diet and physical activity.
Hmm, and what's this?— A sharp gaze spots among the gathered people some with crooked or lame postures… And this girl has the opposite problem—painful emaciation where every bone is visible.
No words… Don't they have their own healers? Ha, funny… With such development of the city, they haven't organized a guild of healers!
I sigh again. If it were up to me, everyone would be forced to undergo training with sorcerers and then a military reconditioning, regardless of age. After all, an adult should always be in shape, no matter their age. And if they can't, they should see a healer.
No, as I said, there were exceptions: there were quite a few people who looked perfectly normal, fit, and toned. If, under my rule, nearly everyone was like that, then here, less than half are! It's just dreadful to think about.
Moreover, even those who were fit had nothing interesting to catch the eye: no muscles, no characteristic grace of a trained fighter. Common folk… it felt like I had encountered pampered Cotarians, whose work was done by domestic servants. Ha! That was one of my easiest victories. I had announced in the city that every slave who killed their master and escaped the walls would become a free warrior joining my legion. The next day, the city was taken by slaves who crushed both their masters and the sorcerers. That's what motivation can do!
Frowning, I continue on, leaving the beach behind. Anyway, I won't find help here. Along the way, I again hear unfamiliar words from people I pass, regretting that the universal language I introduced is no longer spoken here.
"Look at that hunk! When did the beach become a nudist one?" — a man openly pointed at me, speaking an incomprehensible string of words. His face showed a smile.
Is this mockery? Some kind of joke? I can't know. But even if he has slighted my honor, it's better not to start a quarrel. After all, I know nothing about this society.
"And I wouldn't mind having some fun with him; look at those abs." — This time, a short-haired woman covered in a pattern of strange tattoos and iron spikes embedded in her skin nodded at me.
Is this a sign of a mage? Maybe a hero? Or some magical artifacts? Or just plain adornments?
I didn't know, so I ignored everyone. After all, their almost complete lack of clothing couldn't give me any clues about their social status.
Then some women, catching my assessing gaze, smiled like whores hoping to make a few coins. They might as well have beckoned with their fingers! No, I have neither money nor desire. Though, no, I'm lying. My loins react even to the simple sight of their semi-naked bodies. And they lewdly giggle at this. But that's clearly not what I should focus on now. And their appearance was distinctly not to my taste. Too unkempt—one was thin, and the other was flabby, despite being younger than twenty.
I shake my head, pushing away unnecessary thoughts and calming my libido. I'll satisfy this hunger later, once I sort out the situation.
With this simple movement, my long hair swayed in all directions. I would love to have a simple knife to trim it, but… what's not there, isn't there.
I smile. Ah, a knife and clothes. Plus, knowledge of the local language, laws, and a bag of gold. By the way, does the monetary system still exist here? Maybe they've started using something else instead of gold?
Well, it's not worth thinking about that now. I've almost left this large and, to be honest, beautiful beach. Where to go next? Obviously, to the tallest building! The city's leader should be there. Of course, I'll likely be intercepted by his guards, which would be correct and logical, but… I have no other ideas. Hide in alleyways? Until the first soldier who tries to grab a "stranger"? No, that's not my style.
However, the thought that news might reach Asgard raises a wave of… fear in my soul. What if they put me back in the sarcophagus? Drown me in steel again?
I clench my fists and continue moving forward. I'm stronger than that. I will not be broken! Besides, sooner or later, I will run into local warriors and their mages. What difference does it make if it's today or tomorrow? I'm not local and don't know their language! I can't blend in with the rest, no matter how hard I try!
"Hey, buddy, come over here!" — said a rather tall, for the locals, young man who blocked my path. He was only half a head shorter than me, and his body showed defined muscles. However, a professional eye could tell that his muscles were unevenly developed, as if he constantly overloaded only one part of his body, completely ignoring the rest. What nonsense? What instructor gave him such advice? The guy is simply useless! In battle, even a simple militia could easily handle him because, besides shoulder and chest muscles, there's a whole list of other necessary ones! A comprehensive approach is important!
I quickly notice his rather thin legs, underdeveloped abs, and soft side skin… Not a warrior. Just another commoner trying to show off but only eliciting laughter from genuinely competent fighters.
Under my gaze, he quickly cleared the way, pretending he had accidentally blocked it in a completely natural manner.
"We have plenty of young chicks!" — he said again in an unfamiliar string of sounds. Perhaps he's some persistent trader offering something? I don't see any goods, but not everything is carried around. Moreover, it could be something more clandestine, perhaps even illegal.
Trying to figure it out, I reluctantly shrug. The "goods" could be anything—from local drugs to clothing to cover up.
Anyway, without understanding the language, I have no place here. The main thing is not to use force, even if faced with possible aggression. I don't know what the punishment is for killing or beating a city citizen or a slave here. I don't even have anything to pay a fine with! They'll lock me up as a vagrant and then send me to the mines. That would be a laugh.
"Well, go on, you nudist freak!" — he shouted something at my back, and that was the end of it. A despicable trader.
My gaze fell on a group of young people—boys and girls—playing with a ball. They were tossing it over a net and seemed quite happy. Most of them had toned figures and even some muscles. Well, that's good. It means that not all of Midgard's population has sunk to the bottom.
For a moment, I even admired a red-haired beauty, especially since she wore as little clothing as the rest, but it was time to move on.
Having gone a little further, I finally leave the sandy beach and notice something like a wide, elongated wooden pavilion. Around it were chairs occupied by various people. Inside the pavilion stood several, apparently, traders who periodically handed out containers with some drinks or food to those seated around. Music played, and magical lanterns glowed in red, blue, green, and other colors.
Here, people were dressed more and there were more of them. Judging by the population density, I had found myself in a fairly populated city. Or is everywhere like this now?
"Look at this handsome!" — two men approached me, their faces adorned with various metals: in eyebrows, lips, ears, and tongue… Some kind of caste system? Local priests?
But I had already seen something similar on a girl on the way!
Still, they looked no better than the people around. One wore a cloak resembling a toga, painted in rainbow colors, and the other was barely covered below the waist, flaunting his bare torso.
However, instead of an ordinary loincloth, he wore light shorts. I also noted his footwear, but it was standard and familiar to me—simple sandals.
It was somewhat reassuring that they were smiling, but it was troubling how they looked at my groin. Perhaps this was a proposal for sex, like those two whores I met earlier. But men didn't attract me; I've tried, it didn't work.
Although I might be wrong, as any man might show interest in someone else's size. It was almost normal. Still, the complete lack of understanding of the language nullified any attempts at communication.
"Can I touch your abs?" — Judging by the tone, it was a question, but what should I answer?
Suddenly, I had the thought that these people might know the universal language. Actually, why was I silent earlier? Maybe they speak in their own dialect but could still understand me?
"I don't understand your language," I decide to reply. "Does anyone speak the universal language?"
"He's a foreigner!" — exclaimed the one wrapped in a toga. "Come on, John, who knows what their rules are? Maybe, like in Islam, homosexuality is forbidden?" — Apparently, this meant I had no luck with the language. Pity, but it was expected.
"Forget it, Stan, we're not being pushy. Besides, he's naked! What rules could there be about that?" — The second man laughed foolishly, making him very similar to the whores I met earlier.
Definitely not priests, they don't behave like that. And they don't look like guards either. So, once again, I have to move on.
"And maybe he needs help?" — This was said to his companion.
I wonder if I should just leave or stand around a bit longer? Maybe I can understand something?
"You're right, John," the stranger wrapped in the rainbow toga scratched his chin. "What if the young man was robbed, and we just walk by? Do you think a foreigner who doesn't know English would wander around naked otherwise? It's clear he's not looking for company." — After a long phrase, the stranger looked at me with a sad expression.
The last part didn't sit well with me. I've never liked or understood pity, especially when directed at me. Even without knowing about my immortality and invulnerability, one look should be enough to see that as long as my arms and legs are intact, I can work or join the army. So, what's there to be pitied about?
Although... joining the army is not certain. I mean, back when I was around, they would take anyone, and then the army healers would get even the sick, lame, and crippled back on their feet, obliging the healed to serve their country for ten to twenty years. It could be different here.
Nevertheless, there was no point in standing around and staring at them. So, as I had done before, I bypass the men and continue on my way.
Here, away from the beach, I was being watched much more frequently. Often, there were questions and comments. Several times men and women approached me. It was particularly unsettling when a young man pointed something resembling a small magical wand or artifact at me. Is this an attack?
Hmm... unclear. I heard a click from the unknown object, but nothing happened. It didn't work? So magic doesn't affect me! However, judging by his satisfied face, something did happen because the young man immediately lost interest in me and started fiddling with the magical item, which resembled a flat mirror.
Never mind, — I thought, shaking my head, — I need to keep moving. I'll figure things out over time, one way or another.
"— So-so, what do we have here, causing trouble?" — said a tall and attractive woman, now fully clothed in dark colors with a large shiny badge pinned to the left side of her chest. Her hair was neatly tied up and covered with a rather elegant headpiece, something I had never seen before.
However, apart from its aesthetic aspect, I can't imagine its practical use. Perhaps it's to shield from the sun? I would think its purpose is to keep the hair in place, but it was already perfectly arranged! Otherwise, it wouldn't offer much protection from a blow, but... maybe it's a ritual item? Such items are often quite nonsensical.
On her collar, there was also an unusual item that looked like glasses, which I had first seen during trade with the dark elves of Malekith. They are used to enhance vision. However, these were black. What could you see with them? Or are they an artifact?
Behind the woman, I noticed another, shorter and younger, with a frown. A characteristic feature was that she wore the exact same uniform.
Despite her frown, her gaze also swept over my face, body, and naturally stopped lower. Why is everyone so interested in my genitals?! Has society changed that much?!
I mentally sighed. My fault. No need to flash my goods around. Apparently, locals don't display their private parts, though they seem to have no qualms about showing everything else. It seems I don't fit into their concept, which is why I attract extra attention. Adding to this is my fighter's physique, tall stature, and characteristic muscles. And it doesn't matter that I couldn't train in the sarcophagus; the body won't change since it's impossible on a fundamental level.
To be honest, I don't know how it works, as I originally had no distinctive body structure, but over time it changed. Constant battles revealed the relief and it no longer disappeared. Perhaps that's even good.
So, in this time and among these people, body culture still plays its role. But it's strange that most people don't pay any attention to it...
The woman's smile faded slightly at my silence and concentrated scrutiny. Understandably so; I would be wary too, especially in their place. And I suspect they are indeed guards. Why? Ha! In reality, there are several possibilities: they could be warriors or even mages, but in any case, they belong to some order or organization. Because their clothes are identical. It's clearly not by chance. No, I might be wrong, as I don't know the local realities, and anything can be possible. After all, the servants in my palace also wore identical outfits.
But the first theory is supported by their taut bodies and the noticeable muscles on their arms. Of course, it could be that they're similar to the previously encountered man, as the only thing I could properly evaluate were their forearms, since they were bare up to the elbows. But something tells me that's not the case.
And the confident demeanor, of course. Also, what is perhaps most important, the location of unknown artifacts on their belts. A very characteristic place! In my kingdom, weapons and other items like wands, crossbows, and battle elixir flasks were worn there. It's convenient for quickly retrieving some combat tool.
So, it's time to initiate contact somehow. But softly and carefully, to avoid provoking conflict.
I smile at them, showing no teeth. Predators in the animal world show their teeth as a sign of aggression, so, just in case, I follow the advice of my envoys and diplomats, who recommended not showing teeth when meeting new peoples and extraterrestrial races.
"I don't understand you," I say slowly and clearly. "I speak the common language, and I know Elvish and Asgardian."
It wasn't entirely true, as I knew a dozen other old Midgardian languages, but they were officially banned and nearly vanished over the years of my reign. The old-timers who knew them died, and the youth knew nothing but the common language.
"Svartalfheim language?" — I try in Elvish. "Language of the Aesir?" — They themselves don't speak it often, but why not give it a try?
"He doesn't know English," — the first woman says with a frown to the second, who shrugs.
I scratch my head. Honestly, I don't know what to do next. Generally, if these are guards, they should take me to the mage for examination, but if I'm wrong, I've just wasted time. And the fact that the women are quite attractive is no excuse!
I look behind them, noticing several more people who took out devices resembling mirrors, which the young man demonstrated on the way, and now they were pointing them at me and the potential guards. Hmm, it's still not a weapon. But what is happening — it's completely unclear.
"— Hey! Put away your phones!" — the second woman, who was initially displeased, angrily shouted at them.
At her shout, the passersby put away their devices but did not leave, continuing to watch. Hmm...
"— Let's process him and take him to the station," — the first woman sighed, then reached into her bag but quickly jerked back and gave me a strange — guilty — smile.
"— No way, Valdez, handcuffs are a good idea," — the second woman said firmly. "Get them out."
"— Think with your head, Guerrero," — the taller warrior snorted. "Look at how many people are around. And they've already managed to film us on cameras! Do you want a lawsuit for exceeding authority later? The man," — a nod in my direction, "— shows no aggression."
"— Fool," — her neighbor scowled. "Look at how strong he is! He's clearly very strong! See those muscles? He probably hasn't left the gym! Do you think you'll hold him with your little hands if he decides to break you in the car? Or if he tries to hit you from behind?"
"— Well, you'll keep an eye on him," — she smirked, then looked at me. "Come on, citizen, step forward. And no funny business, I don't want to use the stun gun."
The guard firmly but gently took my wrist, leading me forward. Well, they are clearly not prostitutes looking to make money off a tourist, so I should follow them.
The second one took her place behind me, but I had no concerns. Whatever she tried to do, it would result in nothing. It's convenient being invulnerable.
Their behavior only confirmed my suspicions that these two are indeed guards. My soldiers behaved the same way when escorting someone: one in front, one behind.
We arrived at something vaguely resembling Asgardian flying ships but with wheels. A closed carriage? I had already seen similar ones on the way. I tried not to stare too much, as I was already attracting a lot of attention. Every tenth person glanced my way, and many pulled out strange artifacts, pointing them at me.
Maybe it's some kind of identity checker? But why, then, did almost everyone smile, receiving the results? I'm immune to magic, so there shouldn't be any result! What's there to be happy about?
On the way to the carriage, I noticed a lot of interesting things. First and foremost, the people themselves.
Their clothing style has drastically changed. Togas, tunics, and mantles were replaced by... something incomprehensible and colorful. Such forms are unfamiliar to me, not seen among the Aesir or the Elves, so I won't even speculate about their quality or comfort. However, almost everyone had various symbols on their clothing: cats, jagged lines, incomprehensible symbols, and more. Are these their slaves, or is it now mandatory for every representative of a house to wear such a mark? Is it a family crest?
The second novelty was the quality of the roads. Despite the evening having already taken its hold, I was extremely surprised by the incredibly high level of construction. This road was magnificent! Straight and smooth, without any cracks, dents, or defects. And such a thing, I must say, is a mark of progress. In my past, no matter how hard we tried, we couldn't achieve such a level of progress. Something similar was in Asgard, as far as I remember… though I don't recall very well since we destroyed it so quickly, so I remembered little. Except for the blood. Oh yes, how the mighty Aesir begged for mercy on their knees! How my legion severed the heads of men, women, and children, cutting down all we could. How I gave the wounded "gods" for the amusement of my own soldiers…
A smile appeared on my face involuntarily. Fortunately, my escorts in front and behind didn't notice it. I'm afraid I didn't fully manage to hide my bloodthirstiness.
As for architecture and various magical devices, I won't even start. I've already talked about them and even got a bit tired of marveling at them. The only thing that surprised me was the presence of such a developed system of magic. I clearly saw how, through those strange devices that probably every tenth person — and there were thousands of people around! — pointed at me, different men and women were apparently communicating with each other!
Unable to resist, I shook my head.
"— Don't show off," — I heard a voice from behind. "Yes, the vehicle isn't new, but it's what's provided at the station. It's not our fault that it's in such a condition."
I clearly discerned a reproach in the voice. Did I do something wrong? Well, I need to be more careful in my actions, as getting beaten along the spine is not something I desire. It doesn't matter that I won't feel anything; pride might force me to retaliate despite my attempts to restrain myself, and then blood would be spilled. Would this be a good start to my stay in Midgard? Ha! I don't think so!
The woman in front of me opened the door to the carriage, and I obediently took my seat. On the rear seat, which was enclosed by a thin iron mesh. Hmm… is this place intended for criminals? Another confirmation of my theory that the women who apprehended me are city guards!
It's good that I acted as friendly as possible with them. Now they can accuse me of maximum violations: swimming in restricted areas, displaying my genitalia, and disrespecting the supreme authority. Complete nonsense, in other words, for which only the most fallen scum or those under orders from superiors are thrown into prison.
Even if I end up in jail, I'd still gain more than I'd lose. At least I'd be able to learn the language to some extent and start navigating this new world.
Moreover, in prison, they will quickly learn about my unique abilities, and they might try to recruit me as a… um… during my reign, such individuals were called "heroes," but now I don't know what they are or who they are. However, if Bor and Odin were right — and I see no reason to doubt their words — and humanity has changed, then the attitude towards people with superpowers might be different now. However, if such an advanced state hasn't recruited them for military service, I will be very disappointed!
So what happens then? They'll consider me a hero, and given that no one remembers "Zariaks" — the king of the past — I would be the first of my kind.
Is that a good option for me? I don't know… Maybe it's not bad. But at this rate, I might inadvertently become famous and increase the chance of being discovered by the Aesir. Predicting their reaction won't be difficult.
So am I ready to take the risk? Heh, what other options are there?! Let's hope for the best, but prepare for the worst…
The strangers sat in front and began conversing in their language. I didn't even listen to the words until an unusual hissing sound was heard, after which the woman sitting by the wheel started communicating through some sort of communication artifact, while the other began smoking. An unpleasant but quite tolerable smell. I've breathed in worse.
I only hope it's not drugs, as in my time people loved smoking various substances, and it was impossible to eradicate this habit with any punishment. It had to be officially sanctioned and allowed to eliminate smugglers and shadow guilds from their legitimate earnings.
In fact, laws had to be seriously revised and restrictions added for soldiers. They were allowed to smoke only diluted junk and strictly not on guard duty days.
In general, human vices were well known to me, and to some extent, I'm glad that at least human consciousness hasn't changed. Midgardians still smoke as they did before. They probably also drink alcohol and engage in promiscuous sex.
Soon the carriage began to move forward, allowing me to enjoy the view of the surroundings. And let me tell you, there was a lot to see!
Also… I felt a slight motion sickness, as if it were my first time on a ship! What a surprise!
The faster we went, the more nauseous I became, and I had to close my eyes. Fortunately, my body quickly adjusted to this issue, and soon nothing bothered me anymore.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein