Chapter 271: C263
Muspelheim.
The entire vast world resembled a giant volcano, with rivers of lava flowing endlessly, barren mountains of jagged rock, and a desolate landscape devoid of water or vegetation. It was a fiery purgatory where nothing natural could thrive.
At the center of this infernal realm, within a towering mountain cave, the walls and ground fissures glowed with molten heat. The oppressive temperature was lethal to most life forms, leaving this domain a desolate wasteland of enduring hatred.
The ruler of Muspelheim, Surtur, was an ancient fire demon. Half a million years ago, he had battled Odin, the All-Father, and been defeated. Stripped of much of his power by Odin, he had grown weak and had lingered in this condition ever since.
Surtur's immense form, forged of rock and fire, glowed crimson like molten stone. He sat slumped on a massive stone throne, his eyes closed. Beside him rested his colossal black sword, its blade dormant for now.
Though physically diminished, Surtur's hatred burned brighter than ever. Alone in this world, his anger festered, accumulating like a volcano preparing to erupt. When it did, it would herald the prophesied Twilight of the Gods, Ragnarök.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Footsteps echoed through the vast cave, crisp and deliberate. Surtur opened his fiery eyes, gazing upon a figure clad in golden armor and a flowing green cloak. The visitor held a scepter, and his pale, handsome face was etched with cold indifference.
"I know you," Surtur rumbled, his deep, hoarse voice reverberating through the cavern. "You're Odin's son, an Asgardian. Has your father not warned you to stay out of my world?"