Ratatoskr slumped at the panel in front of him. The screens on the wall across from him now all showed similar scenes of the living areas of the competitors. He was exhausted.

He felt his wife’s paw fall on his shoulder. With a deep sigh, he allowed himself to be roused. His wife slipped under one of his arms, helping him to walk back to their living quarters. The tree pulsed a slow and comforting rhythm around them.

“You did a wonderful job, dear,” his wife whispered to him. A proud smile lit her face.

“If I’d have known his idea would lead to so much work, I would have told Baldr to buzz off,” Ratatoskr grumbled with exhaustion tinting his voice.

“I know you’re tired, dear,” she said. “But look at how happy the Great Tree has been since this started. You’re doing her a great service.”

“Yeah yeah,” he said, but a smile stole its way onto his muzzle. He quickly tried to hide it with a forced frown. “Would it really hurt to automate a few more things though, Yggy?”

The walls pulsed around them, a sense of concerned worry passing over the two of them.

“No!” he quickly backpedaled. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I haven’t been this active since the last time Vedrfolnir and Nidhoggr had a spat. I’ll brush off the rust soon enough.”

The tree pulsed a thready, lingering concern once more, drawing Ratatoskr’s grumpy ire.

“I’ll be the one to carry this through to the end,” he said with a finality that no other in the Nine Realms would dare with the Great Tree. “It will only get easier as the Wild Hunt progresses, anyway. I’ve got this.”

The tree fell silent at that, and the husband and wife proceeded to their living quarters. Ratatoskr’s stomach groaned loudly.

“I’ve got dinner ready and waiting for you,” Lagatoskr told him, smiling at him fondly and rubbing his shoulders. “The children are waiting to say goodnight. I’ll give you a massage when you’re done.”

“You’re the best thing she ever gave me, Laga,” Ratatoskr told her, his eyes closed as he let her lead him to his well deserved rest. “Remind me to send Baldr a scathing message in the morning, please. Not only was this whole thing his idea, his F-Tier of all things gave me the most work.”

Valhalla, Asgard

Around the Nine Realms, the halls of the rulers of each realm were more active than they’d ever been. In some, raucous cheers and antagonistic taunts were hurled. In others, bets and speculations were tossed about. In Asgard, frustration warred with complacence and overconfidence.

Baldr, Hodr, and Odin were the most vocal about there dissatisfaction with the ‘surprise’ that Yggdrasil had sprung on them at the last moment.

“How can I ensure that my competitors will fight to their utmost now?” Hodr spat at Baldr. “This has derailed all of my plans.”

“You think you have it rough?” Baldr fired back. “I’ve been scouting talent and establishing this plan for years! This last second twist has rendered all of that work and planning irrelevant!”

They had been going in circles about this for nearly an hour after the end of the first trial. Several other Aesir had retired to their own halls long ago. Only the Aesir closest to the three of them remained.

Plus Loki.

The trickster god never missed a chance to add fuel to the fire.

“Yes, Hodr,” he interjected. “Our wonderful tactician must have invested everything he could! How could you think he expected this?”

“Switching sides again, Loki?” Odin snapped. “How many times is that now? Fifteen? Twenty?”

“You wound me, father,” Loki said with a hurt expression. “You know I’m merely trying to get you to see each other’s sides. We are opponents for now, but the main goal is the end of the Wild Hunt, after all. The contest with the other Realms.”

“Much as I hate to agree with him, Loki has a point,” Baldr said with a sigh. He felt the beginnings of a headache for the first time in several decades. “Our preparations will simply need to be shifted. Contingencies must be prepared.”

“Yes!” Thor shouted out from over the rim of his stein. He had been uncomfortably listening to his brothers and father argue from the feasting table. His voice slurred slightly from the extreme amount of mead he had downed while he got more and more upset. “Together, we can defeat the rest of the Nine Realms! We shall support each other with our strengths and shore up our weaknesses! Our mouths shall be like fire and—URP—”

His enthusiastic speech was cut short as he spewed a large quantity of his stomach’s contents on himself. He mumbled a few more words before slumping to the table in front of himself. His snores rumbled with miniature thunder.

“Truly an inspiring speech, dear brother,” Loki said. He walked over to the table and gathered up the large man effortlessly. “I think that’s enough goading the rest of you for one night. Most of the fires between you have gone out anyways.”

Odin snorted and made a gesture once the brothers were gone. Einherjar swooped in and cleaned the table with quick, efficient movements.

“While Thor may let his emotions fly a little too freely, his sentiment is correct,” Tyr said, rising to his feet. “We can accomplish together things that would fail if we attempted them on our own.”

That short show of support surprised the hall. He would normally have run straight back to his workshop after an event like this, inspired by something he had seen during the trial. Even more surprising, he had sat through an unproductive argument of that length.

“Perhaps we should consider ourselves chastised,” Hodr said as he prepared to depart Valhalla himself. “If he stayed until the end of our argument, he must have considered it necessary.”

“Admonished by my own children,” Odin huffed, blowing out his beard.

“Perhaps you deserved it, just this once, husband,” Frigga told him with a small smile to rob the words of their sting. “It just shows how well we raised them.”

“Ha!” he let out with a snort. “That’s what I love about you dear. Even with the venom of your sting, there is the honey to soothe it.”

Frigga locked eyes with Baldr briefly from behind his father. There was an amused satisfaction to her expression, and a promise of a later talk. It took some effort for Baldr not to roll his eyes. He already knew that she would want to discuss the trials today in private. He surreptitiously checked the scoreboard that Yggdrasil had replaced the feeds with after the trial was over.

Frigga was on top.

Baldr thought. He had already left Valhalla behind at this point, so he allowed himself an exasperated chuckle.

The true surprise for Baldr was that he was in fourth, rather than third. Hodr and Frigga were schemers who loved to keep tabs on Midgard and potential recruits. Much like himself. Curiously enough, Tyr was the one just above him by a scant few points.

Baldr mused.

Ultimately, the points accumulated by the Aesir were meaningless anyways. Baldr recognized it as a way to drive interest the the rulers of each realm. The Great Tree did truly love them all like children, and she had spared no effort to entertain. Her last minute twist simply demonstrated that as much as she loved them, she didn’t trust them not to interfere too greatly.

With a thought, Baldr dismissed the Aesir leader board and pulled up the individual Tier results.

As expected, the highest Tiers were the closest in points. No one in the top three Tiers had gotten completely shut down, or completely dominated. Those Players were significantly more well known and accomplished. All of them were excellent.

Baldr thought with a smug grin.

Strength through achievement was the ultimate law of the Nine Realms. Those born to power could continue that power, and with significantly greater ease. Past a certain point, those advantages dwindled to be almost non-existent.

In fact, most of those who reached Top Tier in the first place were lowborn.

There was a certain necessary drive that was needed to reach those heights.

A desire. A calling. An inherent talent that had to burn so brightly inside a mortal that they would strive to their utmost to achieve it.

All of these were necessary, and yet still not enough.

Without the discipline and dedication necessary to truly strive for greatness, they would still find themselves stuck in A or even B-Tier.

The chosen few who managed to reach Top Tier, had all of the above.

Baldr thought with a smile now turned grim and foreboding.

A picture of Erland sprung to his mind, and he checked the F-Tier results.

Second to last place.

His smile turned darker still when he checked the boy’s Player status.

Name: Erland Grim

Race: Human

Age: 18

Level: 14

Experience: 1,017

Class: Brawler

Profession: N/A

Stats: 43

STR 13 END 6 AGI 13 DEX 6 VIT 6 CON 6 INT 5 WIL 4 CHA 4 LUK 78

Skills: [Hunter’s Scent], [Charge]

Equipment: N/A

Achievements: [Player Killer], [Something From Nothing], [Manslayer]

Baldr thought.

There was a reason that Baldr had bent his will towards the lowest Tier the most.

They had the largest room for improvement.