A Knife in the Back

He slowly zipped up his pants. Petrov glanced at the guards outside, then suddenly felt another twinge in his stomach and squatted down again.

Ugh. Iceland was so cold it had made him sick.

If duty had not kept him here, he would have gone back to the Bear Nation for treatment already.

His health mattered, after all.

Fyodorovich stood outside the restroom with the guards, his expression darkening.

Petrov's been in there far too long. The Security Summit is about to start.

But there was nothing he could do. Petrov needed the toilet, and he could hardly stop him. If Petrov failed to hold it in and embarrassed himself at the Security Summit, the whole Bear Nation would lose face.

He would wait a little longer. If necessary, he would barge in and drag Petrov out.

Even if they embarrassed themselves before the whole world, they could not miss the chance to make contact with a supernatural being.

Scientists from the Bear Nation had analyzed the sun that had appeared over the sea near Reykjavik, Iceland. They concluded that the energy it released was astonishing—equivalent to a human-shaped hydrogen bomb with no radioactive contamination.

That was power enough to reshape the international order and put the Bear Nation at the top of Blue Star. They had to secure it.

Fyodorovich checked the time. The Security Summit was about to begin, and he was preparing to go in and haul Petrov out when a commotion broke out at the entrance to Iceland's Presidential Palace.

Was someone causing trouble at the Iceland Presidential Palace?

Fyodorovich went on alert at once. He turned and saw a man in a trench coat and beret walking in.

People from several countries were trying to speak to the man. Fyodorovich even spotted America's ambassador to Iceland among them—a man on record as an American intelligence operative.

It's him.

Our Slavic supernatural being.

After a moment's shock, Fyodorovich snapped to his senses. This is bad. The Americans will get to him first.

He told one guard to fetch Petrov, then hurried through the crowd with the rest.

Diplomacy was hardly a major general's job, but for the sake of the great Bear Nation, he could not let these scheming foreigners steal away a Slavic supernatural being.

Especially not the Americans.

The crowd was thick, but with the guards' help, Fyodorovich pushed through without much trouble. He strode forward and called out excitedly, "My countryman! Do you remember the man you saved from the Forest Demon Leshy in the Komi Primeval Forest?"

Jiang Hao, who was secretly orchestrating everything, paused at Fyodorovich's words. Did the face I made up happen to look like a real person?

Seeing the man stop, Fyodorovich thought his words had worked. He grew even more excited. "My countryman, I brought him here. We Slavs need you."

Slavs?

Watching Fyodorovich's sudden move, Icelandic president Anderson Streicher, who had come to the entrance himself to greet the supernatural being as a show of respect, nearly ground his teeth.

Do you Slavs have no shame?

He's clearly Icelandic. He even helped Iceland drive off the great serpent Jormungandr last time, and you still dare claim him as one of your own?

"I'm a Norseman," Jiang Hao said through the man, staying in character. "Not a Slav. Not your countryman."

"We Slavs are Norsemen too! We migrated from Scandinavia as well!" Fyodorovich was so agitated that, if not for the last of his self-control, he would have grabbed the man. "We're countrymen, bound by blood. The same blood runs through our veins. We're brothers."

The man nodded, then shook his head, his face tightening. "Brotherhood takes more than blood. It takes faith."

A sharp glint flashed through his gray-blue eyes. "You betrayed the gods."

Under the man's gaze, Fyodorovich felt cold all over, as though he had been plunged into an ice cellar.

Only then did he remember that he worshipped God, while the man before him clearly belonged to the Norse Gods.

The Son of God of Christianity had once said that he had not come to earth to bring brothers together, but to set them apart. Those who believed in him and those who did not were not brothers; they were enemies.

Norse Mythology had no such saying, but Odin had ordered Thor to cast Jormungandr—the newborn son of Odin's brother Loki, and thus his own nephew—out of the Divine Kingdom. The Norse Gods, too, put allegiance above family and showed no mercy to their enemies.

Fyodorovich felt himself freezing from head to toe. He had thought only of how the Slavs were a branch of the Norsemen, joined to them by blood. He had forgotten that the Slavs had long since stopped worshipping the Norse Gods.

They had developed Slavic Mythology and come to worship God. They had abandoned their faith in the Norse Gods long ago.

Who could have guessed the Norse Gods really existed?

Fyodorovich suddenly felt like someone who had bet on Brazil in the 1974 World Cup, only to watch the Zaire National Team win in a landslide.

Anderson Streicher secretly relished the Bear Nation's predicament. That's what you get for shamelessly claiming him as family. It's come back to bite you, hasn't it?

Given the friendly relations between Iceland and the Bear Nation, he decided to twist the knife.

"Sir, the Slavs of the Bear Nation are God's most devout followers. They have never belonged to the great Norse Gods, much less shown any respect for Odin."

As soon as he had spoken, he reminded himself that once the Security Summit was over, banning the worship of God and vigorously promoting worship of the Norse Gods would have to go on the agenda.

That would undoubtedly draw objections abroad, but there should be little opposition at home.

After the miracle outside Reykjavik, the number of Icelanders worshipping the Norse Gods had soared. Temples to Odin and Sól were springing up everywhere; sixteen temples dedicated to the Norse Gods were already planned for Reykjavik alone.

Of course, if the Norse Gods truly existed, then God might well exist too.

Banning worship of God would gravely offend Him.

But faith was no place for hedging one's bets.

Worshipping several deities within the same pantheon was one thing. In the Middle Ages, gods had not minded sharing temples with others of their own pantheon.

But worshipping across pantheons, bouncing between two rival faiths like a weather vane? By this time next year, the lid would be nailed shut on his coffin.

So he intended to stake everything on the Norse Gods.

Great Odin, for bringing your worship back to the Living World, grant me eternity!

Anderson Streicher offered the prayer silently.

When he saw Fyodorovich about to speak, he immediately stepped forward and blocked him. With his back to Fyodorovich, he said respectfully, "Sir, the Security Summit is about to begin. Shall we go upstairs?"