Volume 1: The Fourth Holy Grail War
Chapter 11: The Last Lessons of the Allfather
Snow quietly fell upon the ancient forest.
Years had passed since Ren and Morgan first arrived at the secluded sanctuary hidden from the outside world.
The children who had once struggled to even grasp the meaning of a single Primordial Rune had grown.
Ren, now nearly ten years old, had become noticeably taller.
Though still youthful, his movements no longer carried the hesitation of childhood.
Every step, every breath, and every glance displayed calm discipline.
Morgan had changed as well.
Already several years older than Ren, she possessed a graceful elegance that only continued to mature.
Yet whenever she looked at her younger brother, the coldness she often showed others melted into a warm smile.
The old man watched everything in silence.
“…”
Odin.
The Allfather.
The Wanderer.
Teacher.
For years…
He had shaped two children without ever asking for anything in return.
“Again.”
His calm voice echoed across the clearing.
Ren and Morgan simultaneously raised their rune staffs.
Blue symbols floated into existence.
Ansuz.
Raidho.
Kenaz.
Three runes appeared before each of them.
“Merge.”
The siblings exchanged a glance.
Without hesitation…
The runes began revolving around one another.
At first…
Nothing happened.
Then—
A gentle breeze swept across the clearing.
Not ordinary wind.
Mana.
Pure magical energy answered the runes.
Morgan smiled.
“It worked.”
Ren, however, shook his head.
“…No.”
“The synchronization isn’t stable.”
Almost immediately—
The construct collapsed.
The runes scattered into particles of light.
Odin nodded.
“Correct.”
Morgan blinked.
“…But the spell activated.”
“It did.”
The old man looked toward Ren.
“And why is it incomplete?”
Ren thought carefully before answering.
“The meanings.”
“The three runes understood one another…”
“…but they weren’t speaking the same language.”
Odin’s weathered face revealed the slightest smile.
“Good.”
He slowly walked toward them.
“Most magi treat runes as letters.”
“They memorize them.”
“They carve them.”
“They activate them.”
“They never understand them.”
He pointed toward the shattered symbols.
“A rune…”
“…is not a word.”
“It is a concept.”
His finger traced Ansuz in the air.
“Wisdom.”
Raidho.
“Journey.”
Kenaz.
“Knowledge.”
He looked toward Ren.
“If you merely combine three concepts…”
“…you receive three separate answers.”
“But if those concepts pursue one purpose…”
Ren silently repeated those words within his mind.
One purpose…
Not three spells.
One spell.
One intention.
“Try again.”
This time…
Ren closed his eyes.
He no longer thought about mana.
Nor magical circuits.
Nor formulas.
Only meaning.
Wisdom…
Walking forward…
Illumination.
Three ideas.
One destination.
The runes appeared once more.
Unlike before…
No magical power leaked from them.
Instead…
The three symbols quietly rotated around each other.
Gradually…
Their lights became identical.
Then—
The forest illuminated.
A brilliant pillar of blue light shot into the heavens before gently dispersing like thousands of fireflies.
Morgan stared.
“…Beautiful…”
Even Odin remained silent for several moments.
Finally…
He spoke.
“…Excellent.”
The lesson did not end there.
As the years continued to pass…
Training became increasingly severe.
Morning.
Weapon practice.
Afternoon.
Rune theory.
Evening.
Meditation.
Night.
History.
The following years disappeared one after another.
Ren learned the spear.
The sword.
The staff.
The bow.
The dagger.
Even empty-handed combat.
Every weapon taught a different philosophy.
Every defeat taught another lesson.
Whenever he believed he had mastered something…
Odin effortlessly reminded him otherwise.
“Strength alone cannot protect.”
A wooden spear struck Ren’s shoulder.
He stumbled backward.
Again.
Another strike.
His wrist.
His leg.
His chest.
Each attack stopped only a finger’s breadth from impact.
“You react.”
Another strike.
“You predict.”
Another.
“You calculate.”
Another.
“But…”
Odin’s spear suddenly vanished from Ren’s sight.
“…you hesitate.”
A dull impact struck Ren’s forehead.
He fell backward into the snow.
Morgan couldn’t suppress a laugh.
Ren sighed. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
“…Again.”
Odin nodded approvingly.
Morgan’s training followed a different path.
Her affinity for magecraft exceeded even Odin’s expectations.
Where Ren excelled through intuition and adaptability…
Morgan possessed overwhelming talent for structured magic.
The old god never compared them.
Instead…
He refined their individual strengths.
One became an unparalleled warrior.
The other became a prodigy among magi.
Together…
They covered each other’s weaknesses.
Years quietly passed.
The sanctuary changed with every season.
Spring flowers bloomed.
Summer forests flourished.
Autumn leaves painted the mountains gold.
Winter buried everything beneath snow.
Yet the three figures remained.
Teacher.
Student.
Student.
One afternoon…
Ren sat beneath the enormous World Tree, quietly reading another ancient tome.
Its pages spoke of civilizations long erased from history.
Morgan approached before sitting beside him.
“You’ve changed.”
Ren looked up.
“…Have I?”
“You smile more.”
He chuckled.
“I suppose.”
Morgan watched the leaves dance overhead.
“…When we first met…”
“…your eyes always looked distant.”
“…like someone carrying the weight of another world.”
She smiled gently.
“But now…”
“…they finally look like the eyes of a child.”
Ren remained silent.
Because she wasn’t entirely wrong.
When he first entered the simulation…
His thoughts had been consumed by survival.
Preparation.
The future Holy Grail War.
The system.
Responsibilities.
Somewhere along the way…
Those burdens became lighter.
Not because they disappeared.
But because…
He no longer carried them alone.
“Thank you.”
Morgan blinked.
“For what?”
“For becoming my sister.”
A faint blush appeared on her face.
“…Idiot.”
She gently flicked his forehead.
“You’ve always been my little brother.”
The siblings laughed together beneath the ancient branches.
Not far away…
Odin quietly observed them.
For the first time in countless centuries…
The old god smiled.
Barely noticeable.
But genuine.
He knew…
The day was approaching.
There was little left for him to teach.
The world beyond the sanctuary awaited them.
And when that day came…
His two disciples would begin writing a legend that even history itself would struggle to contain.
End of Chapter 11