The wolf crouched at Erland’s approach, lips rolling back into a snarl. It tried to dart back when Erland’s hand came swinging down, but Erland had accounted for that somewhat. His fist crashed into the wolf’s furry muzzle, clipping it and drawing a growl. That exchange told Erland a lot, and his grin stretched his face with exultation.

Erland thought, following the beast’s attempt to create space.

His fist swung up from his crouched pursuit, catching the wolf a little more squarely this time and blowing the beast’s head back. It reeled this time, stumbling slightly and shaking its head back and forth before refocusing on Erland. When he attempted to follow up, he received a nasty surprise in the form of the creature’s jaws.

Hot blood flowed from Erland’s ribs as he paid for his overeagerness. His mind further solidified that he couldn’t allow this battle to become a trading of blows, and he pressed the attack.

Twisting out of the wolf’s grappling jaws and paying for it with a series of furrows torn from his skin, he pivoted and slammed two quick blows into its ribcage. Erland felt its ribs snap under the skin, roaring in pained triumph. The beast let out a high-pitched yipe, actually losing its balance this time. It collapsed as it tried to bite Erland once more, the blow going wide as the wolf’s foundation collapsed.

“Is this all you send for me, mighty Aesir?!” Erland roared once more, snapping an elbow into the wolf’s skull. His strength was more than equal to the task with such leverage, and he felt the giant wolf’s orbital bone collapse under the strain. “One puny pup, not even fit to leave the den yet?!”

A flash of frost reminiscent of Helvegr’s freezing winds was the only warning Erland got, but it was enough. His instincts screamed at him, and he threw himself away. Frost crackled on his left side as the wolf unleashed its breath weapon, icy fog billowing out.

Erland’s grin turned rueful. He was sure that attack had been a rebuke for his disrespectful words, but he didn’t truly regret them.

He surged back to his feet, reveling in the staticky, crackling pain of his left side as crystals broke off of his body. The wolf had managed to regain its feet as well, but it was much worse off than Erland was. Blood streamed from its crushed left eye socket, joining trickles coming from its injured jaw. It hunched on its right side, trying to keep weight off its broken ribs.

Erland favored one side as well, blood seeping through the holes the wolf’s teeth had torn in his shirt. Ice clung still to his hair and clothes on his left, melting slowly.

The next clash would decide the battle.

Erland idly wondered what would happen if he died here. He hadn’t yet passed through a respawn gate. Would he find himself back at the start of Helvegr, or would he fall and never wake again? He smiled at the unknown prospects in front of him. Were there other worlds beyond this one? If it didn’t mean losing a fight, he might let himself experience it firsthand.

Erland didn’t like to lose. It was the only thing that could erase his smile. Even now, bitterness welled up at the loss that had brought him here in the first place. Losing again so quickly afterwards? Ridiculous.

A sensation so alien that it seemed to describe itself to Erland’s brain as simply red began in his feet. Instinct reigned, and his body shot forward across the space separating him from the wolf without any conscious thought. The beast had no time to react.

He speared the wolf with a tackle, slamming his shoulder into the monster’s chest. A pained yelp was quickly silenced as Erland capitalized, wrenching at the beast’s neck. Fiery pain streaked through him as the struggling animal’s claws tore into his legs, trying desperately to escape his deadly headlock.

With one final strained twist, the battle was over.

Erland collapsed on top of his foe, panting with exhaustion until he felt the invigorating flow of experience filling him.

“Well, are you just going to lay there all day?” asked a rich, cultured voice. That voice triggered alarm bells in Erland’s blood, spiking adrenaline into his exhausted body. “Surely ‘one pup, not yet fit to leave the den’ didn’t tire you that much?”

Erland bolted upright, head whipping to find the source of the noise. A man stood in the air above the road, clad in a light gray pinstripe suit. A flashy yellow tie peeked out at his neck. By far the most obvious sign of who this was however, was the way he lit up the dark sky of Ginnungagap. Light streamed from him, illuminating everything around him without blinding.

Erland’s trademark grin was gone, apprehension writ large upon his features. He knew he had been summoned by the Aesir, but he hadn’t expected them to come out to greet him on their road. After a moment, the corners of his mouth slowly creeped up.

“My apologies, Lord Baldr, if he was a favored hound,” Erland said with an exaggerated bow. “Surely he must have just recently been allowed off the tit if he belonged to you.”

Baldr’s eyes, like the eyes of all Aesir, glowed from inside. They were white ringed with a black edge, and very faintly on that edge one could make out a complex series of runes. His dirty blonde hair was kept in a close cropped undercut, combining with his sharp suit to give an air of professionalism.

“It’s his father you should worry about,” Baldr said with an answering grin of his own. “Fenrir may not take kindly to any disparaging remarks about his bloodline.”

“Oh not at all!” Erland exclaimed, blue eyes flashing with mischief. “Indeed, only the youngest of the great wolf’s pups could fall to someone of my level. You seem to be the one using puppies as guard dogs.”

Baldr merely snorted and shook his head before turning and striding away. He called back to Erland over his shoulder. “The preliminaries are beginning as we speak. Let us continue our conversation in my hall.”

Without so much as a stirring of air, the Aesir disappeared.

It took over an hour for Erland to reach the gates of Asgard at the end of the road. He used the opportunity to pull up his Player status.

Name: Erland Grim

Race: Human

Age: 18

Level: 6 (▼2)

Experience: 30 (▼86)

Class: Brawler

Profession: N/A

Stats: -6

STR 8(▼2) END 5 AGI 8(▼2) DEX 5 VIT 4(▼1) CON 2(▼1) INT 2 WIL 2 CHA 2 LUK 76

Skills: [???], [Charge]

Equipment: N/A

Achievements: [Player Killer], [???], [???]

The loss of levels and stats was frustrating, but it was mitigated by the progress the wolf had given him. Especially since he’d awoken his first true skill in that fight.

When the giant golden gates finally crested the horizon, Erland was missing the inability to get tired while walking. The front of the gates were elaborated decorated with murals depicting the accomplishments of the Aesir. They parted at his approach, revealing the immaculate streets of Asgard.

An einherjar attendant awaited him, kitted out in golden svartstal, also called dwarf steel. The filigreed armor covered him from head to toe, with only a small strip of his green eyes showing from the man underneath. He instructed Erland to follow him, threading through Baldr’s portion of Asgard to his hall.

“What took you so long?” Baldr asked, dismissing the einherjar with a wave. Erland simply laughed, drawing a slightly exasperated grin from Baldr in response. “Have a seat, I’ll pull up the display.”

Erland dropped into the seat with a satisfied sigh. It was a supremely comfortable chair, but he was mostly just happy to be off his feet after days of walking.

Baldr’s innate gleam was much more muted now, giving the effect like he had been painted on the world. A stark white outline of light surrounded him, popping him out from the background as he moved around.

The strange clacking noise that was Baldr typing into the console on his desk echoed through the room briefly. A moment later a display appeared before Erland’s eyes, words set with a backdrop of Yggdrasil behind them.

‘Rulers of the Nine Realms, rejoice! For the first time ever, an interrealm competition will be held. Each ruler of each realm may select one champion of each Tier to compete in the qualifying round.

These champions will be set to compete against each other in a variety of challenges. Be sure to select carefully, as not all tasks will require the same skill sets! The final nine champions from each tier who have managed to accumulate the most points will be chosen for The Wild Hunt, pitted against the champions of the other eight realms!

The lives of these champions and the arbitration of the competition shall be guaranteed by none other than Yggdrasil herself! Choose well and good luck, rulers!’

The letter was signed ‘Ratatoskr, Grand Messenger, Herald of Yggdrasil.’

“Why are you showing me this?” Erland asked, staring back and forth between the letter and Baldr.

“You’re my choice for F-Tier,” Baldr replied, steepling his fingers and leaning forward on his elbows.