Very Simple

The presidents of four of the Five Nordic Countries and the president of the Bear Nation had gathered in a conference room at the Iceland Presidential Palace.

The Security Summit was an international meeting organized by Icelandic president Anderson Streicher. Its main purpose was to safeguard the Nordic countries.

And lately, the threat to their safety was the great serpent Jormungandr.

Jormungandr had taken over the North Sea Fishing Grounds, dealing a devastating blow to the fishing industries of the Five Nordic Countries. Finland and Denmark, with their long traditions of fish farming, had fared slightly better, losing only a little over half their output. Iceland, Sweden, and Norway, which depended heavily on the North Sea Fishing Grounds, had suffered catastrophic losses.

Since losing access to the North Sea Fishing Grounds, their private fishing boats and small fishing companies had been pushed to the brink of closure. Medium and large fishing companies had been forced to sail halfway around a continent to fish elsewhere. Their catches were smaller, and their fuel costs were enormous—every open-ocean fishing vessel guzzled fuel.

Tourism, transport, services, and other industries across the Five Nordic Countries had also taken hits of varying severity. Iceland had suffered in particular. After Jormungandr attacked Reykjavik, many countries classified Iceland as unsafe and issued travel warnings to their citizens.

That was why the Security Summit was also known as the Summit to Kill Jormungandr.

Inside the conference room, Bear Nation president Alexander listened to his secretary's report, his face dark as a storm cloud.

He had little interest in a summit about the Five Nordic Countries' safety. They might be five countries, but to him, their leaders ranked only a step above mayors.

In the past, he would have sent his vice president to a summit like this. He had come in person solely to make contact with the supernaturals.

The Bear Nation had taken notice of that power as soon as supernaturals appeared in the Eastern Isles. At the time, his expert advisers had assessed it as a force capable of shaping international affairs.

But after the battle between supernaturals in the waters off Reykjavik, they had raised their assessment: this was a strategic force that could determine whether a nation lived or died.

The last thing his advisers had described that way was nuclear weapons.

So he had not only come to Iceland himself, but had also prepared a string of plans to contact and win over the supernaturals.

Who could have guessed that those plans would fail at the first step?

Apparently, the divide among supernatural forces depended not only on bloodlines, but on faith.

Believers in the Norse Gods were brothers. Anyone who did not believe was a heretic.

Come on, it's the twenty-first century, and you're still acting like it's the Middle Ages? Are you supernaturals all relics from that era?

When Anderson Streicher entered the conference room alongside a man, every gaze turned toward them—or, more precisely, toward the man. Eyes lit up with excitement.

Alexander stood at once. He straightened his clothes, forced a smile, and walked toward the man with quick, steady steps.

Anderson Streicher's mouth twitched. I know he's the star of this summit, but I'm the one who organized it. Could you at least not ignore me?

Especially you, Alexander. I know you came to meet a supernatural, but must you make it so obvious? You're a president. At least try to hide it.

Without betraying his irritation, Anderson Streicher stepped into Alexander's path and coughed softly. "President Alexander, whatever it is can wait until after the meeting. Let's begin."

Jiang Hao made the man lower his eyes and say, a trace of stiffness in his voice, "We can talk after the meeting."

Anyone could hear the displeasure in his voice.

They all knew what had happened downstairs.

The other presidents smiled discreetly.

So what if you lead a major power? A supernatural won't give you special treatment.

The smile Alexander had forced onto his face froze, and his heart sank.

He knew exactly what the religious landscape back home looked like. Seventy percent of his citizens believed in God. Of the remaining thirty percent, some believed in Perun, some were atheists, and some believed in the Flying Spaghetti Monster. They believed in all sorts of gods—but not Odin.

Before supernaturals appeared, Alexander had never cared what his citizens believed. They could worship whomever they liked. He had been taught from childhood that gods did not exist and that faith was merely a source of comfort. Interfering with his citizens' beliefs would bring no benefit, only a mountain of trouble.

But who could have imagined that gods really existed, and that their supernatural followers divided friend from foe by faith?

Shouldn't you have told us sooner? Why did you leave no trace of yourselves? Why hadn't you appeared even once in a thousand years?

Were you testing the devotion of your followers?

But there was nothing he could do. It had already happened, and regret would change nothing. He could only find a way to make up for it.

Once Alexander had returned to his seat, Anderson Streicher composed himself and began to speak.

"I'm sure everyone here knows the subject of this summit. Let me repeat it: safety."

"Not just Iceland's safety, but the safety of all the Nordic countries—even the entire world. You may think I'm exaggerating. I'm not."

"Jormungandr is the son of Loki and the enemy of the Norse Gods foretold in Ragnarok. He will keep growing until he is large enough to encircle the world."

"Think about it. How much would a serpent large enough to encircle the world need to eat every day? For now, he stays in the North Sea Fishing Grounds because food is plentiful there. But what happens when it can no longer satisfy him? Where will he look for food next? Remember, humans are on the serpent's menu too..."

Anderson Streicher had used no stirring rhetoric or dry statistics. Yet the presidents of the other four Nordic countries—and even Alexander, who had little interest in the summit—were shaken.

With the simplest words, he had painted a chilling picture of the future.

No one paid much attention to something that posed no threat to them. But once they saw that it could threaten them someday, they could no longer ignore it.

"How can we kill Jormungandr?" asked Norwegian president Fres.

"Killing Jormungandr is simple." A mysterious smile appeared on Anderson Streicher's lips. "We only need to find three weapons."

"Which three?" Fres asked. If it was only a matter of weapons, that sounded easy enough. With the combined technology of the Five Nordic Countries and the Bear Nation, what weapon could they not build?

Anderson Streicher's smile widened.

"First, Fragarach, the Sword of Vengeance!"

"Second, Longinus, the Godslayer Spear!"

"Third, Gungnir, the Eternal Spear!"