An Extra’s Rise in an Eroge

"Gleipnir… A chain unlike any other. Forged not from steel or iron, but from six impossible things: the sound of a cat's footsteps, the beard of a woman, the roots of a mountain, the sinews of a bear, the breath of a fish, and the spittle of a bird."

Morrika narrowed her eyes, her ears twitching as she processed his words.

"That… makes no sense," she muttered. "How can something like that exist?"

Arthur smirked. "And yet, it did. The gods were desperate. No metal could bind Fenrir, no force could hold him. So they sought the dwarves of Nidavellir—the greatest craftsmen in the universe. And they forged Gleipnir, a ribbon that looked soft as silk, but was stronger than any chain ever made."

Morrika's fingers clenched into fists on the table. "And… did Fenrir let himself be bound?"

Arthur nodded slowly.

"Yes. The gods, knowing they couldn't force him, played a trick. They invited him to a 'test of strength.' They said, 'If you are truly the mightiest, then break this ribbon.'"

Morrika's expression darkened.

Arthur leaned forward, his voice lowering.

"Fenrir wasn't stupid. He sensed their deception. But he had pride, and more than that—he had trust. Trust in his so-called friends."

Morrika's breath was ragged now, her sharp nails digging into the wood so hard that splinters formed beneath her fingers.

Arthur's smirk faded, his tone turning grim.

"He agreed… but only on one condition. One of them had to put their hand in his mouth. As a sign of trust."

Morrika's voice was barely above a whisper. "Who did?"

Arthur exhaled. "Týr, the god of war. The only one among them who had ever treated Fenrir with a shred of respect."

Morrika remained silent, her jaw clenched.

Arthur ran a hand through his dark locks, continuing,

"And so Fenrir allowed himself to be bound. He struggled. He thrashed. But the more he fought, the tighter Gleipnir became. And then… he understood."

A bitter chuckle escaped Arthur's lips.

"It was never a test. It was a trap."

Morrika slammed her fist onto the table, cracking the wood beneath it.

Arthur, however, wasn't finished.

"Realizing he had been betrayed, Fenrir lashed out. And in his fury, he bit down—tearing Týr's hand clean off. But it didn't matter. The gods had won. Fenrir was bound."

The room was silent, save for the sound of Morrika's heavy breathing.

Arthur tilted his head.

"Tell me, Chief. What do you think happened next?"

Morrika's voice was cold, filled with barely restrained fury.

"They killed him."

Arthur watched with amusement as Morrika sat there, her crimson eyes flickering with barely contained rage. Her breathing was uneven, her fingers twitching as if she were seconds away from tearing something apart.

Still, he continued, his voice carrying the weight of a forgotten legend.

"Oh no. That would have been too kind. Instead, they left him there. Chained. Alone. Betrayed. Forgotten by the gods he once called friends, abandoned by the very ones he protected…"

Morrika's chest rose and fell sharply, but she said nothing.

Arthur leaned forward, his fingers lazily tapping against the table.

"And when Ragnarök came, the madness of the end consumed him. His rage, his grief, his thirst for vengeance—they all erupted into a force beyond anything the gods had foreseen. Fenrir broke free… and he didn't stop there."

Morrika swallowed hard, her heartbeat thudding against her ribs.

Arthur's eyes gleamed with something unreadable.

"He swallowed Odin whole. Tore through Asgard, ripped the gods apart… and when there was nothing left, he turned his fangs on the world itself."

A chill ran down Morrika's spine.

Arthur leaned back, his smirk slowly returning as he watched her digest his words.

Morrika's fingers clenched into tight fists. Then, after a long pause, she spoke.

"And then what?" Her voice was hushed, almost… hesitant. "Did he succumb to his madness? What happened to him after Asgard fell?"

Arthur's smirk deepened.

"He's here."

Morrika's breath hitched. "What?"

Arthur let the silence hang in the air, drawing out the tension before finally saying,

"Not just here on Eldora, Chief. Fenrir is in this very forest."

The room went deathly quiet.

Morrika's eyes narrowed dangerously, her aura flaring.

"I know you have some leverage over me right now, but don't test my patience," she warned, her voice cold as ice.

Arthur chuckled, unfazed. "Or what? It's not like you can do anything to me."

The way he said it—so damn casually—made Morrika's teeth grind. She had met her fair share of arrogant warriors before, but Arthur Ludwig was on a whole different level.

"Either way," Arthur continued smoothly, "what I'm telling you is the truth."

Morrika's claws dug into the splintered remains of the table, her patience hanging by a thread.

Arthur, completely unfazed, leaned forward and began explaining.

"After Fenrir broke free and devoured Odin, his madness only grew. The gods of other mythologies—the Olympians, the Egyptian pantheon, the deities from the East—they all took notice. And like the Aesir before them, they feared him."

Morrika's ears twitched, but she said nothing.

"A being that could kill gods and consume an Allfather-tier deity? It was an abomination in their eyes. They couldn't let him roam free. If he could kill Odin, what was stopping him from turning his fangs on them?"

Morrika's fingers tightened into fists.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "But by then, Fenrir was too strong. His madness had fueled his power to an unimaginable level. The gods knew they couldn't face him alone. So, despite their differences—despite their centuries of war and rivalry—they did something unprecedented."

He looked Morrika straight in the eye.

"They joined hands to bring him down."

The sharp crack of splintering wood echoed through the room.

Morrika had slammed her fist onto the table so hard that it snapped clean in two.

Her chest heaved, her fangs bared in pure fury.

"How could they?" she growled, her voice shaking. "Those cowards call themselves gods?!"

Arthur barely flinched as the table split in half, its two halves crashing onto the floor with a loud thud. Morrika's crimson eyes burned with rage, her canines bared in a snarl.

"How could they?!" she growled, her voice laced with fury. "Those cowards call themselves gods?!"

Arthur exhaled, his smirk fading as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"They had no choice."

Morrika's gaze snapped to him, her ears twitching aggressively.

"No choice?" she spat, "Are you actually defending them?"

Arthur shrugged. "Not really. I'm just telling you how it happened. The moment Fenrir tore Odin apart, the balance of the divine realms shattered. The gods from other pantheons took notice. They saw what he had become… and they panicked."

Morrika's claws dug into the remains of the table, her muscles tensed.

Arthur continued, his tone turning somber,

"Tell me, Chief… What do you think happened when a being powerful enough to swallow the Allfather ran rampant?"

Morrika swallowed, but she refused to answer.

Arthur smirked. "The gods did what they always do when faced with something beyond their control."

He tapped his fingers against his chair, his voice dropping lower,

"They banded together."

Arthur sighed. "And they succeeded."

The room fell silent.

Morrika finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "They killed him…?"

Arthur chuckled, but there was no amusement in it. "Killed? No. You don't just 'kill' something like Fenrir."

Morrika's eyes widened slightly, her ears twitching as she listened.

Arthur leaned back, crossing his arms. "They couldn't destroy him, so they did the next best thing."

He locked eyes with her.

"They sealed him."

Morrika's breath hitched.

Arthur tilted his head, his smirk returning. "And you'll never guess where."

Morrika clenched her fists, her voice sharp. "You already said it."

Arthur nodded. "That's right. Fenrir, the God-Slayer, the Devourer of Odin… was sealed here. On Eldora."

Arthur's voice softened, but his next words were anything but gentle.

"Fenrir isn't dead."

Morrika's heart pounded.

Arthur's gaze was steady as he spoke, his voice carrying a quiet conviction.

"He's waiting, you know."

Morrika's ears twitched, her crimson eyes locked onto him.

"Waiting?"

Arthur leaned back, exhaling softly.

"Waiting to be saved from the one thing he fears the most… loneliness." His voice was calm, almost wistful. "Waiting to be freed from the chains that have bound him for centuries."

Arthur pressed on. "He once protected your people, didn't he? He gave your ancestors strength, power, a purpose. Without him, your kin would've never risen to the heights they stand at today."

Morrika's fists clenched at her sides.

Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone turning sharper. "And yet, when he needed someone the most, he was abandoned. Forgotten."

The room was silent, the weight of his words settling over them like a storm cloud.

Then, Morrika spoke.

"You don't have to lecture me." Her voice was firm, burning with conviction. "I know what I must do."

She stood abruptly, fire blazing in her eyes. "Tell me where he is. I'll go to him now."

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head.

"Oh-ho~ Hold on there, Chief." His lips curled into an amused smirk. "Do you really think the gods would leave him unguarded?"