EPILOGUE
“By the gods, such an overwhelming surge of ásmegin...” Hárbarth spat out bitterly from a room within Valaskjálf Palace.
The Steel Clan Reginarch’s first wife appeared, and then the twin runes ran wild. As a result, Sigrdrífa had been roused from her coma. Considering that he’d gone so far as to offer up his own head for the sake of this scheme, it was an unexpected setback.
“I am glad I made the decision to prepare a spare,” Hárbarth said with a dry laugh, stretching the neck of his new body.
There was no telling when the next þjóðann would be born. His old body might very well have given out before then.
Even if he took over the next þjóðann, he wouldn’t be able to act as a baby, which was why he’d prepared this body as a temporary vessel for that contingency.
“While it hurts to have lost the þjóðann’s body, no doubt they now think that I’ve died and let down their guard.”
They’d cut off his old body’s head and banished him from Sigrdrífa. He had also made it appear to her that he’d been vanquished.
“No, Black One. You’ll not cheat me out of years of preparation...!”
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