Marvel With Zanpakutou

Chapter 824: The Source of Calamity

The man stayed in the small town.

No one knew where he came from, only that Old John mentioned he had gotten lost in the forest, swept away by a mudslide into the mountain stream, and had lost his memory. He was a pitiful soul.

Old John, the village elder, gave him a new name: "Luka," which in ancient Norse meant "the lucky one blessed by the gods."

In truth, the man was indeed fortunate.

To have survived such an extreme storm, combined with the disaster of a mudslide, and emerged utterly unharmed was, in some way, a stroke of incredible luck.

The villagers were kind-hearted and simple folk. Despite Luka being an outsider, they showed him great compassion and hospitality, offering dried fish and homemade mead.

Although Luka appeared somewhat lean, he possessed immense strength. He could easily lift objects weighing hundreds of pounds and was incredibly skilled at chopping wood. Trees so large that it took four or five men to encircle them with their arms, Luka could fall in just a few swings of his axe.

To repay Old John for saving his life and partly to avoid being seen as a freeloader, Luka offered to help the villagers with their wood-chopping needs after discovering his talent.

Thus, Luka supplied much of the firewood Luka supplied the village needed for winter. Occasionally, he would join the other young men on hunting or fishing trips, making his days busy and fulfilling.

And so, time passed day by day.

Soon, three months had gone by since Luka arrived in the village. During this time, he became close with the villagers, especially Old John’s granddaughter, Yvette, who seemed very fond of him. She often followed him around, chattering endlessly like a little shadow.

"Luka! Luka!"

Yvette skipped over joyfully on a mountain path, calling out, "Grandpa says the Fire Festival is in two days! He wants you to come back early and not stay out too late!"

Thud

Luka exhaled heavily and gripped his axe’s wooden handle, swinging it in a sharp arc. The axe blade effortlessly sliced through the tree trunk, felling a massive tree that would typically require several people to encircle with their arms.

"I got it..." Luka turned to look at Yvette and said with a sigh, "It’s dangerous up here in the mountains. You shouldn’t be out here alone. What if you run into a bear?"

Even though it was still winter and most bears were hibernating, a few might wake up and hunt.

"Not scared at all!" Yvette chirped as she walked over, twisting her fingers together. She smiled mischievously, "Besides, if I run into a bear, Luka will protect me!"

"I can’t fight a bear." Luka chuckled, affectionately ruffling the girl’s hair. "But seriously, don’t come up here alone. If you really do run into a bear, I might not be able to save you in time."

"That’s a lie!" Yvette puffed out her cheeks, her eyes wide as she protested, looking like a cute little pufferfish. "I heard from Vidar and the others—you fought a brown bear alone last time! They’re calling you Odin’s warrior."

"That was just a fluke..." Luka sighed helplessly. "Don’t listen to their exaggerations. I just managed to scare it off. I’m just an ordinary person—I couldn’t possibly kill a bear."

Luka knew what was going through the young girl’s mind. It was the typical awe one might feel toward a new, mysterious figure in an isolated place. He knew better than to encourage it and did his best to keep a respectful distance.

"I don’t believe you!" Yvette clung to Luka’s arm playfully. "Luka is the best. Even Grandpa says you’re strong."

"Yvette, I need to finish chopping this wood. Go wait over there for a bit," Luka said, laughing, as he gently freed his arm from her grasp. He grabbed his axe again and prepared to split the tree he had just fallen.

Yvette obediently sat off to the side, watching quietly as Luka chopped wood. Her bright green eyes, as clear as a mountain spring, were fixed on him intently.

Old John’s axe was dull and rusty since it hadn’t been sharpened that day, but it seemed like a divine weapon in Luka’s hands. He effortlessly cut through the tree trunks, chopping up hundreds of kilograms of firewood in no time.

Each piece of firewood was cut to a uniform size, almost as if measured precisely. The pile grew several meters tall, enough to make anyone else groan just looking at it.

However, Luka’s decision to buy a few hundred kilograms of wood was no big deal. He tied the logs together with a rope, then effortlessly hoisted the massive bundle over his shoulder with one hand.

"Alright, let’s go." Luka, now carrying a pile of firewood taller than himself, said to the girl, "If we don’t head back now, Old John will come looking for you."

"He won’t~ Grandpa knows I came to find you," Yvette chirped as she clung to Luka’s arm, playing her pink tongue playfully. "The path down the mountain is hard to walk. Luka, can you hold my hand?"

Luka smiled helplessly, seeing through her little trick but unable to refuse. He took her hand and said, "Stay close and be careful."

By the time they returned to the village, the sky had darkened.

Old John stood at the village gate. When he saw them returning, his smile faltered momentarily, his gaze lingering on the clasped hands of Yvette and Luka.

"Grandpa! We’re back!" Yvette happily ran to him, throwing herself into his arms. Her big, beautiful eyes sparkled with admiration as she exclaimed, "Grandpa, you don’t know how amazing Luka is! He cut down a huge tree with just a few swings!"

"Hehe, Grandpa knows," Old John smiled, though a hint of concern flickered in his eyes. He ruffled her golden hair and said, "The neighbors are making honey mead and asked for your help."

"Mm-hmm~ I’m on my way!" Yvette’s eyes lit up at the mention of honey mead. Her face flushed red as she shot a shy glance at Luka, then giggled and skipped away.

During the Fire Festival, there was a tradition where women would offer homemade honey mead to the men they loved, inviting them to dance by the fire. Those blessed by Odin would then live happily ever after together.

Once Yvette was out of sight, Old John turned to Luka, placing a hand on his shoulder. His tone was heavy with meaning. "Yvette is my granddaughter. I’ve watched her grow up."

"She’s like an angel—pure, beautiful, and kind. All I want is for her to live a peaceful, healthy life, without getting involved in anything dangerous. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I understand." Luka nodded solemnly.

"I don’t know your past," Old John said, his eyes locking with Luka’s, "but I’m certain it’s not simple. And my instincts tell me... being around you will bring danger."

"Don’t worry, Old John." Luka’s eyes clouded with a touch of sorrow as he nodded. "I won’t let any harm come to your family. Yvette... is like a sister to me."

"I see." Old John sighed. "After the Fire Festival, once the weather warms and the snow melts, it’s best if you leave this place."

"...Alright," Luka agreed quietly.

"I’m sorry..." Old John said, guilt evident in his voice. "Just think of it as... my selfishness."

"No need to apologize," Luka said with a smile. "If leaving will repay the kindness you’ve shown me, then it’s the least I can do."