I Was Born With A Bloodline That Ended The World-Chapter 114: A Rooted Question

"Where can I find it?"

Rhian’s voice was steady, but the question landed with weight.

Borik blinked once, then burst out laughing.

"By the gods, you’re not real!" he chuckled, walking back toward his forge. "What are you, some lost son of Odin trying to climb the Bifröst and rewrite fate itself?"

He kept laughing, louder now, shaking his head. "Next you’ll be telling me you’re off to slay Níðhöggr and drink from Mímir’s well."

Rhian didn’t say anything. He just stared at him.

Borik kept chuckling to himself, pacing a little as he wiped his hands. "Kid, you have a better chance of finding a rune-smith in these parts than ever laying eyes on the World Tree."

His laughter slowed as he turned back, and then he stopped cold.

The look on Rhian’s face wasn’t playful. It wasn’t curious either. It was focused. Serious.

Borik narrowed his eyes.

"You’re... actually serious?" he asked.

Rhian nodded once.

Borik stood there for a few seconds, scratching his beard. His tone dropped, the humor fading from his voice.

"Damn. You’re either stupid... or the real thing."

Rhian didn’t know what that meant. He glanced back at the paper, still holding it carefully. "By the way... who’s Odin? And what’s Bifrost?"

Borik blinked. "Huh?"

Rhian looked up. "you said those names. I’ve never heard those words before."

Borik scratched his beard. "You’ve really never heard of Odin?"

Rhian shook his head.

The dwarf snorted, muttering, "Stars above, what are they teachin’ kids these days?"

He leaned back against the forge table, folding his arms. "Alright. I’m no scholar, so don’t ask for poetry—but I’ll give it to you straight."

He pointed at the wall like he was pointing toward a map no one else could see. "Odin’s... some ancient big-shot. Old stories say he was a god, or a king of gods. One eye, long beard, always had these black birds with him. Real smart type. Not kind. Not cruel either. Just... knew everything."

Rhian raised an eyebrow. "And Bifrost?"

"That’s supposed to be the bridge between realms. Big rainbow-looking thing, but deadly. Not a damn decoration. Supposedly only gods or chosen folks could walk it without bursting into pieces."

Rhian leaned forward a little. "You believe in all that?"

Borik snorted. "Doesn’t matter if I believe it. Runes exist. Magic exists. Realms do too. So if someone long ago named Odin figured all that out... I don’t need to see him with my own eyes to know he might’ve been real."

He stood up again and wiped his hands on a cloth.

"But don’t go thinking you’ll find his ghost handing out directions. You want the World Tree?" He tapped Rhian on the forehead. "Better start looking inside first."

Borik shook his head at the question. "Why do you even want to find the damn tree?"

Rhian didn’t answer right away. He looked down at the paper again. The image of the tree stuck in his mind.

He remembered the voice, the words it said, and the way his wings had burned into existence.

But he wasn’t going to share that. Not yet. Not with Borik.

He kept his expression calm. "Just curious."

Borik scoffed. "Right. Curious."

He turned and grabbed a thick cloth from the bench, using it to wipe down a metal slab. "You’re a lost cause, kid. Chasin’ things that may not even be real."

He paused, glanced at Rhian again, then shrugged. "But if you ever need real information, about weapons, places, people, I’m the guy. I know who talks, and where to listen."

Rhian nodded once. "Thanks."

Borik waved it off. "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go asking me to follow you into any roots or sky bridges or whatever madness you’re thinking."

He tossed the cloth aside and went back to his forge. The sound of hammering started up again.

Rhian looked down at the world tree drawing once more. The voice in his head echoed again.

He folded the paper and quietly slipped it into his pocket.

Rhian sighed. He was glad he found something, anything, but from what Borik said, finding more would be close to impossible.

This wasn’t the kind of thing you could just look up or ask around about. If he walked outside and started saying words like "World Tree" or "Odin," people would probably just stare or think he was making things up. Maybe even call him crazy.

No one knew these names. And if they did, they clearly weren’t talking about them.

Still, it was a lead. A small one. But it was something.

Rhian stepped out of the shop. It was already dark, the sky painted with deep blue shadows and distant stars.

The courtyard lanterns flickered dimly, casting long shapes across the stone path as he walked.

His thoughts were still on the World Tree. From the drawing, it looked massive branches stretching out like roots across the sky, each one holding some kind of realm.

The idea of it actually existing felt impossible. If there really was a tree that size, people would’ve known. It would be in books. Maps. Stories.

He shook his head and let out a small chuckle. It was too big of an idea. Too strange.

Then he remembered something else, he had tried to call Nia earlier. She hadn’t answered. Maybe she had just been busy.

He pulled out his phone again and tapped her name.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then it hung up.

He frowned. That was different. Before, it just rang out. This time, someone ended the call.

He stood there for a moment, uncertain.

Was she okay?

He thought about heading to the girls’ dorms to check on her, but it was late. He knew how that would look, and the academy didn’t take kindly to students breaking dorm rules, even with good intentions.

Still, something felt off.

He tried again.

Same result.

Ring. Ring. Then it cut.

Rhian lowered the phone, staring at the screen. He didn’t like this feeling. Especially when Nia was not the type to act like this.