Gawain Was Moved

Thrúd, Odin's attendant and the second daughter of Thor and his wife Sif, bore a name that meant strength.

As Odin's granddaughter, compared to the Valkyries who were Odin's daughters, Thrúd was not only childlike in appearance but in temperament as well. As an apprentice Valkyrie, she was still immature.

"You've been to America?"

Gawain did not care why she had come to the Kingdom of Camelot. Riding their winged horses, they could swiftly reach distant Rome, Constantinople, or even farther-off Egypt.

"Of course. Those unlucky fools went to raid merchant ships, but got lost at sea and accidentally arrived at the place you call America. Mm, what's this? So soft, so sweet, so delicious. I've never had food like this before. It's wonderful."

"Don't change the subject. Keep going."

As she spoke, Thrúd picked up the cake from Gawain's plate and stuffed it into her mouth in one bite, a blissful expression appearing on her face. At this time, Viking food was far worse than Camelot's cuisine. Even Valkyries who frequently traveled between the divine realm and the human world had never tasted anything so delicious.

"Wait until I finish this. Mmm. Make some for me again next time."

Thrúd gave Gawain an adorable smile. However, seeing that he still wore a poker face, she wiped the corner of her mouth and said, "The moment they reached America, they found themselves without food. They had drunk all their water too. To survive, they had no choice but to go to a nearby native tribe. But frighteningly, those natives attacked them outright. After one companion died, they had no choice but to retreat. Those things you call potatoes were actually buried in the ground. They thought they were edible, but after eating them raw, they all vomited and had diarrhea."

Thrúd clutched her stomach and laughed endlessly. Then she looked at Gawain with a solemn expression. "Do you understand? Those Viking warriors who crossed the ocean to reach America were definitely not weak, yet they still lost to those local natives. Left with no other choice, they had to perform a blood sacrifice ritual and call upon Odin, hoping the god would lend them wind so they could leave. Gawain, that is not a place you can go."

For Vikings, though being slain in battle and welcomed by Valkyries into Valhalla was the highest honor, what Viking warriors most wished to see was Valkyries—and what they feared most was also Valkyries.

Unless a Viking warrior had reached a ripe old age, who would want to go to Valhalla while they were still young and had not yet lived enough?

Mother stroked Thrúd's little head and stuffed the cake in her hand into the Valkyrie's mouth. Before Gawain's mother, this young Valkyrie was as docile as a kitten.

The fact that Viking warriors had been defeated by native tribes in America was simply a shocking and unbelievable revelation to Gawain.

In later generations, after the discovery of the New World, America had been a standard weakling, battered by the nations of Europe in turn. In the end, the native peoples of the American continent had nearly been wiped out by the Americans.

Yet according to Thrúd, they had actually been able to defeat an entire shipload of Viking warriors.

Who did not know the fearsome reputation of Viking mercenaries?

During the Viking Age, they invaded France and established the Duchy of Normandy. After the Arthurian dynasty collapsed, they divided England and established the Danelaw. In Ireland, they directly established their own rule. The first dynasty in Russian history had been founded by Vikings, and that state was called Kievan Rus'.

For Vikings, even with only fifty men, they dared to openly found a nation. Later Iceland had been established by fifty-nine Vikings.

"Odin answered their call!" Gawain spotted the key point.

If the blood sacrifice ritual did not kill some people, the great god Odin would not be satisfied. Even if they were companions aboard the same warship, unless they sacrificed one-third of them, they clearly could not summon Odin's descent.

Yet after summoning Odin, all the god had done was use his authority to give their ship wind so they could escape. It sounded utterly unbelievable.

Normally, the victor of a Blood Eagle Ritual could receive Odin's gift of victory and gain the ability to become a berserker.

By Viking logic, after receiving Odin's infusion of divine power, they should obviously have counterattacked. Yet they had actually run away.

Gawain also possessed the privilege of becoming a berserker for a short time, but he had never used it—not even once.

"That place is troublesome. Its Age of Mythology hasn't ended yet. Gods can openly become human kings and display divine power in the mortal world. If not for Grandfather, I doubt I could have escaped."

Thrúd spoke with lingering fear. Clearly, that journey to America had left even this young goddess deeply shaken.

Gods might not have a concept of death, but she was not a true god after all. She was a lesser goddess—a Valkyrie.

Disappointment appeared on Gawain's face. If even Odin had met with defeat in America, then there was even less chance for him.

Still, if he wanted to eat potatoes in the future, he had to make a trip to America.

He had no ambition to begin an Age of Exploration, but he had plenty of ambition to bring American crops such as corn, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, potatoes, chili peppers, and peanuts back to Camelot and introduce their cultivation.

No matter how much Camelot's knights valued the deeds and virtues of knightly chivalry, believing that only such things could bring glory, introducing these species would be an act of immeasurable merit.

"What are you doing here? Instead of thinking about work, did you come here to slack off?"

Only then did Gawain curiously ask why Thrúd had come. To be honest, he had always had complicated feelings toward Valkyries.

Because of the Valkyrie's appearance, his position in the Kingdom of Denmark had temporarily stabilized. He could leave calmly, without being viewed as a failure, and he had preserved the honor and throne of his father, King Lot.

But it was also because of the Valkyrie's appearance that King Lot felt a sense of urgency. A monarch as long-lived and victorious in battle as him might someday die of old age in bed—would that not mean he could never reach Valhalla?

Many Viking warriors, when they grew old and no longer had much strength to wield their battle axes, still begged their king to take them into battle. Only by dying on the battlefield could they ascend to Valhalla.

"Oh, I forgot to mention the important matter. I actually came to welcome you." Hearing Gawain's words, Thrúd wriggled out of Gawain's mother's embrace and said, "I think you're like my mother."

"Welcome me?" Gawain asked in surprise. "I'm not planning to return to Northern Europe."

"Not back to Northern Europe. I came to welcome you to Valhalla. My sister said she was coming to welcome you too, but I got here first, so I sneaked off." Thrúd grabbed Gawain's hand, a smug expression on her face, as though saying that she had finally beaten her sister once.

"Um, Miss Thrúd, I'm not dead yet, am I? Isn't it a little early for you to welcome me to Valhalla? Besides, even if I die, I might not necessarily go to Valhalla. Probably!"

Gawain wore a strange expression. I'm a Protestant. I should be going to Heaven, shouldn't I? But then he thought that his faith might not be devout enough for the angel ladies. If he failed the review, Valhalla might be a fallback option after all. He knew people there.

"You're about to die. Because you stole King Arthur's Excalibur, the Round Table Council is going to sentence you to hanging. At Bedivere's suggestion, they decided to give you a trial by combat. The one judging you will be Sir Lancelot, who has returned to the kingdom. In other words, Gawain, you're doomed."

Thrúd threw her arms around Gawain, delight on her face. "In Valhalla, you'll have eternity to be with me. Gawain, why are you crying? Are those tears of joy? Thrúd is happy too!"