"Loki, you need to commit more knowledge to memory to make greater progress in studying magic, instead of immersing yourself in those insignificant pranks."
The Ancient One was teaching her disciple in the study, but Loki was the first one she gave extra guidance to.
"Teacher, I thought my long life had already allowed me to acquire sufficient knowledge. I'm more eager to learn the techniques of spellcasting now."
Loki was uncharacteristically humble; he wouldn't be arrogantly dismissive in the presence of the Sorcerer Supreme.
"Very well. Do you understand the forms in which a soul exists?"
The Ancient One asked with a smile. Loki certainly possessed a great deal of knowledge, but the knowledge concerning the souls of Asgardians was precisely the part that Odin had sealed away.
Asgardian souls could indeed be controlled, but the one wielding this authority was currently imprisoned in Helheim.
Therefore, all newly rising Asgardian mages lacked knowledge concerning souls.
"The forms of a soul?"
Loki seemed somewhat perplexed. In his life, no one had ever mentioned the soul.
As the younger prince of Asgard, though not a "babe" utterly devoid of combat experience, he had never had the opportunity to grasp the mysteries of the soul.
Hela, the Asgardian Goddess of Death.
She commanded the deaths of all life in Asgard; even Odin himself was subject to her authority.
The souls of the Asgardian deceased would only depart their bodies at Hela's touch. Hence, ever since Hela's imprisonment, all Asgardians during this period had been unable to achieve soul liberation.
They were like those confined within an iron maiden, imprisoned within increasingly decaying husks.
Unable to leave, they could only endure the pain brought by their bodies' decay.
Soul and flesh are one; thus, no truly powerful individuals within the Church originated from asceticism.
A withered body cannot attest to the nobility of the soul, nor can scarred, rotting flesh contain a noble soul.
"Knowledge concerning the soul, you should have learned from your father, but due to certain circumstances, I will explain it to you."
The Ancient One spoke calmly, her eyes slightly closed.
Odin had entrusted Loki to her, so she would not shy away from imparting this knowledge to Loki to avoid internal Asgardian affairs.
As a teacher who imparts knowledge, the Ancient One was indeed qualified, though too few students were capable of truly learning from her.
As she spoke, she extended her palm and placed it on Loki's chest, then suddenly exerted force.
"To see one's own soul is the first step for a mage to understand their existence."
Loki's soul floated out following this palm strike that separated it from his body. However, this soul was no longer the handsome, smirking figure it had been before.
Instead, azure skin replaced his original handsome features, radiating an icy aura.
"So this is why my father was unwilling to tell me about the soul?"
Loki looked incredulous, comparing his soul form to his original body.
"I am a Frost Giant?"
Loki wasn't foolish; the appearance his soul displayed was that of a Frost Giant.
"Who is my father? Laufey?"
"These questions you should not ask me, but you should have a good conversation with your father."
The Ancient One grasped Loki's shoulder, her tone solemn.
Although the Ancient One knew that if Loki couldn't be guided onto the right path in time, this stubborn Asgardian might stray.
However, the Ancient One wasn't particularly skilled in moral education.
"Can I still call him father?"
The azure color on Loki's body began to revert to its original appearance after he grew accustomed to the soul's form.
He possessed powerful emotional control; otherwise, he wouldn't have pulled off so many successful pranks.
Loki indeed possessed extraordinary magical talent, a talent that could even give him a chance to succeed as Sorcerer Supreme.
If Loki could reach his potential peak, his achievements might even rival those of Stephen Strange.
"Of course. Have you forgotten whose protection you grew up under?"
The Ancient One attempted to soothe Loki. She could feel Loki's soul begin to vibrate, as if on the verge of boiling.
"I can't go back to how things were, can I? The moment Odin entrusted me to you, there was no going back.
He has already abandoned me, hasn't he? Only Mother... I don't want to make her sad because of me..."
Clearly, Loki was overthinking. He no longer called Odin "father," but still referred to Frigga as "Mother."
Everyone knew that Frigga had no dealings with Laufey; if one were to be precise, it would be a matter between Odin and the Frost Giants.
But Loki clearly didn't see it that way.
"Then, are you denying your past life? Those were not illusions."
The power of white magic from the Ancient One's body began to surge, pinning the emotionally agitated Loki in place.
"I don't know! But you suddenly tell me that I am of Frost Giant blood, how can I easily accept that!? I! Loki! Prince of Asgard! Am the child of Asgard's enemy. Can my past even be called real!?"
Loki's body was completely immobile, but his voice, on the verge of breaking, conveyed his turmoil.
"Then what about your brother, Thor, whom you have deceived countless times, yet who will still choose to believe you next time? Is he an illusion as well?"
The Ancient One threw Loki's soul back into his body. The moment his soul and body reconnected, Loki's Asgardian body, along with his new understanding of the soul, transformed into azure skin, beginning to emit cold.
"Brother?"
Loki let out a long sigh, and the cold breath he exhaled instantly covered the desk before him with icicles.
The pastries on the table were also encased in ice, and the mages nearby were dusted with frost.
But the cup of milk still emitted steam.
Loki wasn't interested in the unfrozen milk, instead saying to the Ancient One:
"Take me to Thor, Teacher. You promised you would let me see him every day."
Loki, as before, regained control of his body.
The initial coldness also vanished.
"Wong, collect everyone's questions. I will answer them one by one when I return."
The Ancient One spoke to Wong, who was still taking notes, casually raising the ambient temperature slightly. The other mages said nothing.
Among the mages present, only Wong had the qualification to spar with Loki, and it was merely a qualification—meaning he wouldn't be defeated by a single casual blow.
The other mages' bodies began to tremble under this chilling power.
In a corner of the room, Mak was lying on the ground, idly flicking his ears and the bell on his neck.
"Then let's go. But you must understand that for now, you only need to focus on learning magic from me. Matters of your lineage or hidden secrets need not concern you excessively."
"I will do as you wish. Only the strong can dominate everything, and only the strong can bear those cruel truths."
Loki said this.
Then, he followed behind the Ancient One, stepping into the teleportation portal to Harrogath.
"Only the strong can dominate themselves! And only the strong can bear those cruel truths!"
Bul-Kathos was roaring at Roshak.
Roshak's arm was visibly broken by an immense force, and his axe was reduced to just a hilt.
The injuries inflicted by the Crusader King were far more extensive than these, but this particular wound was caused by the "Black King's March" technique.
Just as Bul-Kathos couldn't dispel Malthael's death power with potions, the injuries inflicted by the degraded Crusader King using death-infused skills, derived from Leoric, also couldn't be healed with potions.
As soon as Roshak emerged, he expressed his desire to continue into the secret realm, but Bul-Kathos was admonishing his reckless actions.
"So what should I do about this injury?"
Roshak glanced at the Ancient One and Loki, who had arrived through the portal, then asked Bul-Kathos.
Whether he recognized the Ancient One and Loki or not, he wouldn't pay too much attention.
At this moment, he would only wholeheartedly strive to become stronger and then uncover the truth he sought.
"Go find Malah; she'll take care of your injury. After all, this barely even counts as a graze from death's aura."
Voluskk answered Roshak's question. If the Black King's March used by Leoric was an attack Diablo himself would have to avoid, then this inferior Crusader King's attack could only barely scratch Ghom's oily hide.
It merely inhibited the injured area from receiving life force for recovery. Malah should be able to solve this problem with traditional barbarian herbs.
"This is Loki, who doesn't resemble Odin at all. He's here to see his brother."
The Ancient One said with a smile to Bul-Kathos, as she noticed the confusion in his eyes.
"You mean Thor?"
Bul-Kathos nodded.
After all, coming to Harrogath to find a brother surely wasn't to look for the hammer called "Son of Odin."
"He's still fighting in Voluskk's secret realm, shouldn't he be almost done?"
Bul-Kathos cast a doubtful glance at Voluskk.
Voluskk flopped heavily onto the cold ground, then said:
"Soon. He just killed the last aggregated Corpse Monstrosity and is about to come out."
Voluskk casually pointed to the spot where he had opened the secret realm, and a portal shimmered into existence as he finished speaking.
Thor emerged from the portal, covered in dark brown bloodstains, carrying the Butcher's Cleaver in his hand.
From his appearance alone, he had gained some of the Butcher's demeanor, and the somewhat sinister weapon played no small part in that.
"Brother, what is this..."
Loki asked, somewhat puzzled, earning an even more bewildered look from Thor.
"Loki, what's wrong with you? Whenever you call me brother, you're usually trying to trick me. What trouble have you stirred up this time?"
Thor glanced at the Ancient One standing beside Loki, gripping his weapon tightly.
Thor was very protective, even though he considered himself righteous.
"The Butcher's Cleaver? Voluskk, your secret realm has that?"
Bul-Kathos wasn't concerned with the conversation between the brothers; he was more interested in the weapon.
His words clearly carried a tone of anger, almost grinding his teeth.
"I've long forgotten. I only know that I am destined for greatness, so why would I remember my combat experiences? They're nothing but mere fodder."
Voluskk said, lying on the ground in an undignified posture.
It was only because he was wearing his battle armor that he was sprawled in an "大" (big) shape.
Otherwise, a "木" (wood) shape might have been possible. If you included the Shattered Stone Hammer lying to the side, it might have been a "休" (rest) shape.
"What nonsense are you talking about? Leoric wasn't even a shadow when you were born! The only one you could have encountered was the Berserker. How did this cleaver appear in your secret realm?"
Bul-Kathos walked over to Voluskk, glaring intensely at him on the ground.
The cleaver only appeared as equipment after Aidan slew the Berserker; it absolutely shouldn't be in Voluskk's secret realm. The timeline simply didn't match!
Remember, Voluskk had already been dead for over a thousand years when Leoric was born.
"I went to see the gates of Mount Arreat and touched the fragments you brought back."
Voluskk closed his eyes, choosing to say no more.
He didn't want to say anything further.
Bul-Kathos let out a deep sigh upon hearing this, then kicked Voluskk in the waist, sending the Second Immortal King sprawling to the side.
Voluskk's actions were unsafe, and had already caused an impact.
And the most infuriating thing was that Bul-Kathos, besides kicking Voluskk, had no other way to vent his anger.
"You know, only I can do that on Mount Arreat! What have you lost!"
Bul-Kathos ignored the visitors, roaring at Voluskk with an interrogative tone.
Sparks of anger were already visible on his body.
"I lost a little bit of glory, that's all."
After leaving this statement, Voluskk vanished from everyone's sight.
Leaving Bul-Kathos to suppress his rage.
"Are you still you!? You damned bastard! XXXX!"
Bul-Kathos furiously cursed Voluskk, while the Ancient One watched in silence.
When it came to barbarians, besides gentle persuasion, she had learned not to pry.
Loki and Thor were startled by the sudden outburst and dared not speak further for a moment.
Even with Bul-Kathos restraining his emotions, the aura of a strong individual was enough to silence them both.
"You are not yet the Immortal King, but he is!"
Raekor said in a hoarse voice, arms crossed over her chest.
She had turned back when Bul-Kathos began to rage.
However, she merely left that one sentence before disappearing again.
Indeed, Bul-Kathos had not yet inherited the title of Immortal King, and Voluskk, as the Immortal King, would never let someone else bear everything alone.
It was just that his attempt had failed; he hadn't been able to achieve what he wanted.
No one could stop a barbarian from making a choice, regardless of whether that barbarian was powerful or not.
Stubbornness was simply the inherent nature of their kind.
(End of Chapter)
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