Chapter 17: Opening ceremony

Sometimes the beginning of a war is not heralded by shouts or explosions. Sometimes, it arrives draped in golden robes, beneath fluttering banners and words heavy with protocol. The world of the gods is not so different from that of men: both hide their wounds with celebrations, and mask their fear with grandiose speeches.

The opening ceremony was not merely symbolic. It was theater. A display of power, order, and unity before a world slowly crumbling.

Asgard shone in its ancestral splendor, decorated as though the future were not hanging by a thread. Millennia-old statues stood guard over the palace halls with impassive eternity, while guests from every corner of the world sat in feigned tranquility. Yet in the eyes of the wise—and in the heaviest silences—lingered a tension that neither gold nor frost could conceal.

The spectacle had begun. But it was not just a tournament. It was a declaration—of faith, of vengeance, of survival.
And among all those present, a few knew the truth: the greatest danger was not the battle itself… but what was brewing behind it.

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Morning came with disquieting swiftness. Heimdall appeared without warning, his presence firm and direct, like a duty that allowed no delay.
“All-Father wants you at the Grand Palace,” he announced in a dry voice, and without waiting for a reply, vanished in a burst of energy.

Aphrodite stood in silence for a few moments. Then, with a decisive gaze, she gave the order.
“Prepare yourselves. We’re going to Odin’s Palace.”

The students responded in unison, their voices a mix of nervousness and determination. Time moved forward without pause, and one by one, all the members of the GODS Institute arrived at the meeting point, burdened with the weight of what had happened and the uncertainty of what was to come.
“There’s no doubt,” Aphrodite murmured as she watched them gathered, “I was not mistaken.”

“What do you mean?” Shu asked cautiously.

The goddess looked at him seriously.
“The tournament will be held earlier than expected. They won’t give us time to prepare.”

“What? Seriously? Can they even do that?” Shu frowned in surprise.

“There’s no rule against it. But by custom, at least a month is left between rounds. This time, they’re moving everything forward deliberately.”

“This is better,” Eden said firmly. “We have no time to waste.”

“You might be right,” Shu admitted. “But something doesn’t add up.”
“What do you mean?”
“Since we arrived, we’ve been under constant watch. There’s always a soldier following us, and today is no exception. Why so many precautions?”

“Maybe it’s because I still can’t control my power,” Eden interjected with a bitter half-smile.
“Maybe…” Shu repeated, not fully convinced.

A familiar figure approached with steady steps and a kind smile. It was Balder.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted. “Welcome to the palace of the All-Father.”

Eden recognized him immediately, his face lighting up briefly.
“It’s you…”
“We meet again, Eden,” Balder replied with a slight bow.

“You two know each other?” Isaac asked, intrigued.
“We met the other day. He helped me when I was attacked.”

Aphrodite, who had remained silent until then, took a step forward.
“So you already know the most beloved god in Nork.”

Eden stared at him in astonishment.
“A god?”
“You didn’t know? He is the god of light and truth. Balder, the Just.”

“Enough,” Balder interrupted with modesty. “Don’t call me by that name, it sounds arrogant.”
“I wasn’t the one who gave it to you,” Aphrodite replied with a mocking gesture. “It was your people.”

Shu studied him carefully. Though his expression was gentle, the energy radiating from him was overwhelming.
“At a glance,” he thought, “his great strength stands out.”

“Please, come with me. The All-Father is waiting for you,” Balder invited, turning to lead the way.

The group entered the grand palace. Their eyes couldn’t take it all in: there were informants, students, and several gods speaking in small groups. The atmosphere was solemn, yet charged with tension.

“It seems we arrived a bit late,” Aphrodite whispered.

Odin’s deep voice echoed from the back of the hall.
“Be seated.”

Aphrodite stared at him before replying.
“I didn’t expect this many guests. What do you hope to accomplish with all this?”

“What are you insinuating?” the god asked in a stern tone.

“I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but do you really think I haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what, exactly?”

“What’s going on here? Why is all of Asgard surrounded by thousands of soldiers? What are you defending?”

Odin’s voice turned mocking.
“You should already know, dear. Black Lights can appear at any moment. Besides, that demon child is the danger I must protect my people from. Is that so hard to understand, or does it not fit into that empty head of yours?”

Tension snapped. Eden’s sword rose in an instant, aimed at the god’s throat.
“Say that again,” he growled. “And I’ll kill you.”

“Eden!” Aphrodite shouted, alarmed.

“I won’t let you talk to my people like that,” the boy said, his eyes burning with rage.

“Sit the hell down!” Aphrodite ordered, on the verge of losing her composure.

Odin, unmoved, looked him straight in the eye.
“Tell me, boy… what torments you?”

No answer came. The sword slipped from Eden’s hands and the light left his eyes. Then his body collapsed without warning.

Odin narrowed his eyes.
“Interesting…”

Aphrodite clenched her fists tightly.
“Let’s finish this once and for all.”

“Come now, don’t be like that,” Odin sneered. “People from my realm and others deserve to witness the clashes.”

“The next time you do anything to my students,” Aphrodite warned, her voice dripping with venom, “I will kill you.”

“Yes, yes,” Odin replied as if he didn’t care.

Then the whole world watched.

Giant holograms began to light up every corner of the planet.

Odin took the floor.
“I apologize for the wait, viewers. Welcome to the presentation of the format and the match selections against the GODS Institute. First, we have chosen a one-on-one format. Three of our students will face three of yours. The institute that achieves two victories will take the round.”

The god’s voice grew even more solemn.
“The rules are simple. Number one: killing the opponent is not allowed. Number two: amputating a limb is not allowed. Number three: victory is achieved when the opponent is rendered unconscious.”

Aphrodite listened silently, weighing every word.
“There isn’t a single rule different from those established by the King,” she thought. “Everything seems correct… too correct.”

Odin continued.
“Now I will announce the matchups. First: Isaac versus Kou.”

The name made Aphrodite raise an eyebrow.
“Kou Näve,” she recalled mentally—specialist in metal techniques, with an impregnable defense and overwhelming physical strength.

“Second match: Eden against Rei.”
“Rei Sandhed,” Aphrodite murmured to herself— a swift and precise swordsman. He wields wood techniques… it will be a difficult fight.

“Finally: Nai versus Shu.”

Aphrodite’s heart skipped a beat.
“Nai Blixt… son of Thor, grandson of Odin. One of the top ten in the Gold rank. Electricity techniques, magic, hand-to-hand… a monster.”

Shu remained silent, grinding his teeth.
“I’ll tear you apart,” he thought.

“I look forward to our fight,” Nai whispered from the back of the hall.

Odin closed his remarks with a cold smile.
“That is all for today. I hope to see you here tomorrow. Let the spectacle begin.”

The holograms faded.

Aphrodite turned on her heel.
“If that’s all, we’re leaving.”

“As you wish,” Odin replied without ceasing to smile. “I hope to see you tomorrow in the arena.”

Outside the palace, Aphrodite quickened her pace.
“You know what you must do.”

“Leave it to us,” Shu said decisively. “We will make them pay for everything that happened.”

“You better,” Odin murmured from within. “Tear them to pieces.”

“Calm down, grandfather,” Nai replied with an arrogant smile. “They won’t even have a chance.”

The group departed, their faces set with resolve. This time, the war would be in the arena.

The icy wind caressed Asgard’s walls, carrying with it a heavy silence that felt like the prelude to a storm. Isaac walked alone through one of the palace’s outer corridors, head still bowed. The echo of his footsteps was his only companion in that moment before battle. He closed his eyes briefly, drew a deep breath, and let the frigid air steady his thoughts.
“I’m going to win,” he murmured to himself, as though he needed to hear the words aloud.

From a distance, Aphrodite watched without approaching. She had learned to recognize when a warrior needed solitude before combat. She pressed her lips together and turned to Shu, who was sharpening his gaze toward the entrance of the arena.
“Nervous?” the goddess asked bluntly.
Shu nodded, though his expression hardly changed.
“Not for me. For him. Isaac is hiding something, and I don’t know if it’ll play for him or against him.”

The figure of Kou appeared on the horizon, walking with firm, deliberate steps. The student of Nork wore his armor as if it were a natural extension of his body. His eyes, hard as steel, sought Isaac without a word.

The two contenders stood face-to-face, separated by barely a few meters. Between them, the cold seemed to deepen.
“Ready?” announced the guard who oversaw the arena.

Isaac stepped forward. Kou barely inclined his neck.

The crowd filling the stands leaned forward, as if the air itself were holding its breath in anticipation of the first move.
“I won’t lose,” Isaac declared, driving his lance into the ground with firmness.

Kou did not answer. His silence spoke for him—he knew no reality other than victory.

From his throne, Odin watched without blinking.
“Begin,” he declared in a grave tone.

In that instant, the ice cracked beneath the warriors’ feet, announcing the start of a battle that would decide far more than a tally on the tournament board.

The crowd roared, their cries echoing with the tension of the fight. Isaac drew a deep breath, adjusting his grip on the lance. In front of him, Kou returned a mocking smile.
“Ready to lose?” Kou taunted.

Isaac gave no reply. He only raised his eyes with determination, letting them glide over the metallic sheen of his rival.

From the stands, Aphrodite watched in silence, analyzing. Her thoughts were clear: two Bronze-ranked combatants. It would be a balanced fight, but the key would be whether Isaac could shatter that impossible defense.

Odin rose slightly in his throne, his grave voice resonating through the arena.
“Welcome to the first round of the clash between Nork Institute and the GODS Institute. Let the battle between Kou Näve and Isaac Yoi begin.”

Silence consumed the place.
“Commence!”

Isaac charged without hesitation. With precision, he drove his lance toward Kou’s torso—but just before impact, a wall of metal surged up between them.
“Metal Technique: Impregnable Wall,” Kou murmured confidently.

The clang of lance striking metal rang across the arena. A sharp crack followed. For a moment, Isaac thought he had done it. But his hope crumbled as quickly as his body was hurled back by the wall, slamming against the arena’s barrier.
“Did you hear it?” he muttered through gasps. “I swear it was breaking…”

Kou gave him no respite. His expression remained one of unshaken composure, as if untouched by pressure.
“Disappointing.”

Isaac rose unsteadily. He noticed something strange—the wall now seemed to ripple, as though turning liquid at moments. From his seat, Shu frowned. He knew exactly what that meant.
“He’s falling into his trap,” he thought grimly.

Isaac charged again. Once. Twice. Dozens of times. His lance grew more battered with every strike. Kou stood firm, raising his defense effortlessly.
“Nail Storm,” Kou intoned.

The sky shifted. Thousands of metallic projectiles rained down like needles. Isaac barely managed to shield himself, but soon his body was riddled with shallow wounds. His breath faltered. His muscles burned. His body began to give in.

Kou advanced steadily, ready to finish the fight.
“It’s time to end this.”

But just as he raised his hand to conjure his technique, Isaac appeared in front of him.
“What…?”
“Thanks for the help,” Isaac whispered, the faintest smile on his lips.

An explosion shook the arena as the lance drove into Kou’s abdomen, hurling him into the stands.
“He did it!” someone in the crowd shouted.

Kou, spitting blood, struggled to rise.

Isaac, meanwhile, barely remained standing.
“Just… a little more…”

But his body refused. He fell to his knees.
“Come on, get up!” he growled through clenched teeth. “Not again!”

His eyes searched the crowd. He recognized Shu, Aphrodite. And one more—the calm gaze of Eden, offering him a serene smile.

That was enough.

His battered body moved again, defying logic.
“Victory Spear!” Isaac roared.

Kou raised his defense, summoning a metal drill that spun like a tornado.

The two techniques collided. The crash was deafening. The shockwave swept the arena, throwing both combatants into the air.

Silence fell.

When the dust cleared, both were still standing… barely.

Heimdall stepped into the field. He surveyed the scene. Kou’s breathing was ragged, but he remained conscious. Isaac, however, had his eyes closed, body surrendered.
“The winner is Kou Näve of Nork Institute,” he declared firmly.

The crowd erupted.

Aphrodite rushed forward to carry Isaac away to the infirmary.

Hours later, in a medical chamber lit by magical torches, Eir examined the young demigod.
“He’ll be fine. I’ve never seen someone of his kind regenerate so quickly… but his body… it went far beyond any limit. He’s suffered internal ruptures, torn muscles, and multiple fractures.”

Aphrodite lowered her head. Eden and Shu waited in silence.
“Are we prepared for something like this?” Shu murmured.
“No,” Eden answered quietly. “But we have no other choice.”

Isaac’s memories, lost between fever and dreams, carried him back to a distant childhood. Two children laughing among flowers. A broken promise. And then… fire. Screams. A charred body.

The scene shifted. Back in his bed, Isaac whimpered in his sleep.
“Herm… little brother…”

The echo of a loss etched itself deeper into his soul.

Elsewhere, from the shadows of a cliffside, several hooded figures watched Asgard. The eyes of one of them gleamed with restrained fury.

The war was only just beginning.