Somewhere in the Forsaken Land of the Gods, deep inside an ancient castle that seemed to have stood for thousands of years.
An enormous figure, as large as a small hill, lay in a hall lit by dim candlelight. It resembled a wild wolf, with short black fur covering its body and a tuft of grayish-white hair between two black eyes larger than a human head.
Before it, humans, giants, elves, and creatures of other races wore different styles of clothing and served as the castle's manservants, maids, cooks, and guards. They moved nimbly, their expressions lively, and even spoke to one another in Jotun, exchanging information about their work and lives.
But in the giant wolf's eyes, all these servants' spirit body threads gathered in orderly patterns and connected to its body.
They were all marionettes. This was a marionette castle belonging to Cottar, the God of Wishes and the Demonic Wolf.
Bored, Cottar fiddled with the spirit body threads, making two shapely maids embrace before a jealous third party caught them. Just as the three were about to come to blows, illusory, overlapping prayers suddenly reached his ears.
He raised his head alertly and tilted it to listen. All the marionettes made the same movements.
It really is that honorific name I'd long forgotten... After hearing the prayer clearly, Cottar shook his head and instinctively wanted to sever the connection. But his spirituality sensed that this prayer was somewhat different from the trap previously set by the human called Amon. After a moment's hesitation, he raised his hill-sized body in the marionette-filled hall, opened his mouth in a silent howl, and summoned another version of himself from history.
As his true body plunged into the lingering Historical Void and raced into a hidden historical fragment of the Second