The golden roots unwrapped from around Martha.

They peeled away layer by layer before withdrawing completely, releasing her back into reality.

She dropped to her knees immediately, but her hands reached out, grabbing Reinhard's body and pulling him against her chest. Her light blue eyes stared at the massive hole punched through his torso with blood pooling beneath him.

His chest was still rising and falling, but at an extremely slow pace. His eyes remained open, but the light in them was fading.

The blue in his eye was becoming grey, then darker.

Martha trembled as her fingers clutched at his shoulders. "What is happening to him now?!"

Mimir's voice came steady despite the urgency. "Now it's time for Odin to do his part."

Martha's brows furrowed while looking at the crow, confusion and doubt warring in her expression. "Would Odin really help? Reinhard has just become a Beast Master. Why would his spirit-"

"Here's a secret about those Beast Spirits at the top." Mimir's golden horns caught the glowing light from the remaining cocoons. "They extremely care for their Beast Masters. To the point they're willing to break some rules for them."

Martha blinked as she recalled memories of her own Beast Spirit, Valkyrie, bending rules she shouldn't have bent.

"Why do they go out of their way to do that?" Martha's question came softer. "Especially when we haven't talked with them or seemed to gain their approval?"

"Because those S, SS, or SSS Beast Spirits almost never get a Beast Master. It's extremely hard for one to be born to them." Mimir shifted on his perch. "And so when they do get one, they'll do their best to help them stay alive."

Martha's eyes widened with surprise and understanding combined. No wonder her Valkyrie, which was a SS Beast Class Spirit, was willing to grant her Steel Mind and Battle Master when she was just a child.

It was all so she could cope with the experiments, the pressure, and the feeling as if she was drowning back then.

Mimir's head snapped upward, and his voice exploded with volume that seemed impossible from such a small body. "Odin, You Bastard! Are you really going to let this one die?! Isn't he the only one you've ever had?!" The crow's feathers bristled, making him appear twice his normal size. "You'd better do something or you'll be left in history like those other bastards!"

…

Coldness spread through Reinhard's body.

Not the cold of winter air or icy water, but it felt like the warmth inside his body was leaving his body.

He could feel Martha holding him, but oddly not her warmth.

He could feel her arms around his shoulders, her chest against his side, her breathing rapid with panic he couldn't quite process.

The sensations came distant, as if experienced through layers of clothing.

Mimir was shouting something about Odin, about dying, and about being left behind.

The meaning registered somewhere in his fading consciousness but didn't seem important.

Questions began forming in a slow and disconnected manner. Is this the end?

The thought held no panic or fear, just curiosity and interest in the answer.

Will I really not be able to summon Odin?

That one carried slight disappointment, similar to how one would feel about missing a meal.

Will I really leave Anna and Klein in this world?

His siblings' faces floated through his mind, he saw Anna's determined expression and Klein's grin.

The thought of leaving them should hurt.

It should tear at him with grief and make him fight, struggle, claw his way back from death's edge.

But it didn't. As if he were just an observer, who simply acknowledged it and felt nothing in particular about it.

What about the Elixir of Life? Klein's cure?

The entire reason he'd come to Memento Mori Academy, join the squad, become a Herald, and put himself in danger repeatedly was.

All for that singular goal, which now might end here.

The realization should devastate him.

But it didn't.

What about my friends?

Joseph's laugh, Marie's gentle smile, Scath's battle-hungry grin, Roana's calculating gaze, Nikki's joy, and Gran's calm gaze. Even Anasha's joy and her soft smile, all of their faces flashed through his mind.

They had become important without him noticing when or how. Who would continue existing without him if he died here?

The thought should make him fight harder.

It didn't.

I'm dying.

The fact settled into his consciousness without resistance, without rejection, and with just acceptance.

And there's nothing I can do about it. I'm powerless.

His vision faded even more as he could barely see Martha's face in the blur or hear Mimir's voice.

Is this really it? I guess-

Then a voice rang inside his head, somewhere beyond the dying body and fading consciousness.

Is that it?

The words cut through the fog and demanded attention in a way nothing else had.

Reinhard's consciousness focused, if such a thing was possible for someone moments from death. Awareness gathered as an image began to form in the darkness, and then he saw a familiar figure.

It was Odin sitting upon his massive warhorse. The horse's mane flickered like faint blue flames, casting shadows across its rider. Sparks of light trailed from its hooves as if each step touched stars rather than ground. Eight legs moved with grace, and streaks of blue colored the upper portions of those legs, fading to gold toward the hooves.

Odin wore dark jagged armor, every surface covered in lines that glowed with blue light. It was interweaving with patterns of gold that gold in rhythm with something Reinhard couldn't identify. A horned helmet concealed his face completely; the only opening was a small gap where eyes should be, but that space held only shadows.

A long tattered cloak trailed from the rider's shoulders, moving in winds that didn't exist, stirring with each breath of the horse beneath.

Odin?

Reinhard's thought formed without conscious effort.

Just one death and you're already giving up? Odin's voice rang out in amusement. Come now. As Odin, death is just a little nap for you.

Time stopped.

Martha's face froze mid-expression with bits of tears hanging suspended in the air where they'd fallen from her eyes.

Mimir had stopped with his feathers spread, body tilted as if about to take flight. The blood leaking from Reinhard's chest had frozen in the air while his body remained motionless.

He could feel nothing working except for his mind, which still continued to think, feel, and be aware.

As Odin? The question formed slowly.

Indeed. Odin's voice came again. Death is not the end for us, but simply a light nap before we decide it's time to wake up.

Odin's horned helmet tilted slightly as if studying Reinhard's frozen body from a different angle. When that crow proposed that you die, did you feel any fear?

Reinhard's consciousness turned inward as he recalled Mimir's explanation and plan. Then he realized he didn't feel any fear, no instinctive rejection, or hope for alternatives.

The only thing he was worried about was if it would succeed or not, and if it could, he was willing to accept it.

No, Odin's voice continued when Reinhard provided no answer. All you felt was nothing. Because you were never in any danger.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.