World Traveler Villain-Chapter 243: CH: 240 The Medicine Pavilion

{Chapter: 240 The Medicine Pavilion}

Fandral stared at Sif's retreating back, a hint of worry in his eyes. "I don't know why, but I get the strange feeling that something's off about Sif. Am I just imagining things?"

"You're not imagining it," Hogan replied, his arms crossed as he observed Sif as well. "She seems... distracted. Like something's weighing heavily on her mind."

Volstagg let out a hearty laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "Nonsense! She's just hungry. That's exactly how I get when I haven't eaten for a while — all grumpy and quiet!"

"Don't assume everyone's like you, you walking stomach!" Fandral barked, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

---

At the celebration banquet in the grand halls of Asgard, the long tables were overflowing with sumptuous food and golden goblets of mead. Rows of roasted meat, fresh fruits, and delicacies from all across the Asgard covered the tables. Warriors in gleaming armor mingled freely, laughter echoing through the marble columns as tankards clashed in celebration.

Sif sat among them, but her expression was distant. Her eyes were fixed on her plate, yet she hadn't taken a single bite. The smells, the flavors — none of them stirred her appetite. The warmth and joy of the celebration felt hollow to her.

After a long moment of silence, she stood up abruptly.

"Sif?" Fandral called out, his voice laced with concern. "Aren't you going to eat? The feast's only just begun!"

"You all enjoy yourselves," Sif replied without turning back. "Don't worry about me. I'll return shortly."

She walked out of the banquet hall, her footsteps echoing along the stone corridor. As she stepped into the open gallery overlooking the city, her eyes were drawn to the ethereal glow of Asgard's skies. Floating lands shimmered under the celestial light. Waterfalls tumbled into clouds below. The view was breathtaking — and yet she felt none of its peace.

"Asgard truly is a masterpiece," a voice murmured from behind her. It came from the sword she had hidden in the folds of her robe.

Her body tensed. "You must have a death wish to speak here so openly," she hissed, her tone sharp and cold.

"I couldn't help it. You seemed so down. I was worried," William's voice echoed with mocking sympathy. "But if you want to end this, just expose me. Tell them I'm here. A swarm of gods and warriors will descend on me. Maybe they'll succeed in killing me."

He let the suggestion hang in the air like a taunt.

"I should be the one taking responsibility," Sif muttered bitterly. "All of this... it's my burden to bear."

"You've got strength and pride. I admire that," William said lightly. "But it doesn't have to be this way. We don't have to be enemies, Sif. Look around — I haven't harmed Asgard in any way, have I?"

"Maybe you haven't touched Asgard... yet," Sif growled. "But for what you did to me, I will never forgive you. I won't rest until you're dead."

"I'm confident I can change your mind," William replied with a chuckle.

"In your dreams."

"Exactly. You still have to dream, what if it comes true. That's where it starts — with dreams. Who knows? Maybe one day, I'll fulfill my dream... of burning this golden city to the ground."

Sif's expression twisted into scorn. Her voice cut like ice. "Keep dreaming. Asgard is eternal. It has stood for millions of years, enduring wars, cosmic storms, even Surtur himself. You think you can destroy this?"

"Time will tell. Until next time," William said playfully. "You sound very awesome, see you later."

In the blink of an eye, the sword shimmered and vanished into thin air, as if it had never existed.

"Get back here, you bastard!" Sif shouted, her clenched fists trembling with rage. "If you dare touch Asgard, I swear — you'll die a dog's death!"

---

Deep within the massive palace of Asgard, guards marched along the ornate corridors. They wore dazzling golden armor, polished to perfection, and carried ceremonial spears with tips that gleamed under the magic-lit torches.

Two guards walked side by side, discussing the banquet in hushed tones — but neither of them noticed the danger creeping behind them. freeweɓnovel.cøm

Suddenly, with a gust of sharp wind, two swords shot forward from the shadows with impossible speed. Before they could even react, the blades pierced through their backs, skewering their hearts clean through. Blood sprayed across the stone floor as their bodies froze, then slowly slumped to the ground.

Shock and disbelief filled their eyes. They had been struck down within the very heart of Asgard — something that should have been impossible.

From the shadows, the two swords twisted in midair, merging into a single form. That form grew and reshaped until William emerged, standing calmly over their lifeless bodies.

He looked down without emotion, then casually grabbed one of the corpses by the arm, dragging it into a secluded alcove. Stripping off the guard's golden armor, William donned it piece by piece until he looked like just another Asgardian sentry.

Now hidden in plain sight, he resumed his walk through the palace halls. Step after step, no one stopped him — no one questioned his identity. Finally, he arrived at a door adorned with runes, where ancient lettering spelled out:

"House of Alchemy."

He paused, a glint of interest in his eyes. "Now, let's see what Asgard is hiding inside here..."

William smiled darkly, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. The Alchemy House... Just the name alone suggested a treasure trove of potent elixirs. He couldn't help but wonder what powerful concoctions might be hidden within. After all, Odin himself kept the Tablet of Life and Time sealed away in his vault—an artifact that contained the biochemical formula known as the Lifeline Serum, capable of rejuvenation, accelerated healing, and even unlocking the full evolutionary potential of one's race.

With such legendary formulas housed in Asgard, it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume that the Alchemy House might contain something equally extraordinary. Perhaps something even better. It won't hurt to take a little peek...

As he approached the entrance to the pavilion, two guards clad in gold-trimmed armor stepped forward and raised their weapons, blocking his path.

"You there! You're a palace guard," one of them barked. "Why are you here instead of patrolling your designated sector?"

William stopped a few paces short of them, his expression calm and disinterested. "I was sent to collect an elixir under the order of the All-Father himself," he said casually.

The second guard narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Do you have a signed decree from All Father?"

William tilted his head, a sly grin creeping across his lips. "A handwritten decree? Of course. Come closer—I'll show it to you."

The two guards exchanged a glance, then stepped forward, albeit cautiously. What greeted them, however, was not a royal decree, but William's hand transforming into a blurred shape that lashed out with inhuman speed. He grabbed both guards by the throat, lifting them effortlessly off the ground as their boots scraped and kicked against the marble floor.

"Wha—what are you...?" one of them gasped, struggling for breath.

"If you want a decree, go ask the Goddess of Death for one," William said coldly, his voice dripping with disdain. "I could've gone in peacefully, but you just had to get in the way. So stubborn—so noble. I'll grant your wish."

With a sharp crack, he snapped both their necks and dragged their lifeless bodies to a shadowed corner near the entrance. After ensuring no one was watching, he slipped inside the Alchemy House.

The moment he stepped in, a wave of rich, herbal fragrance enveloped him. The air was thick with the scent of rare ingredients and freshly refined elixirs. In the center of the room stood a massive alchemical furnace, flames flickering steadily beneath it. Its elegant design, runes etched in gold, gave it a sacred aura.

"I can't believe it... this place is real," William muttered, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. "For a second, I thought I'd stumbled into a Chinese Celestial Alchemy Room from some cultivation drama. As expected of Asgard, it's fun."

To his left and right were rows of ornate gold boxes, each one carefully sealed and inscribed with protective sigils. There was no question—these containers held refined elixirs of immense value.

"Well, then... it would be rude not to help myself," William chuckled. He raised his hand, and a pulse of blue energy rippled from his palm. With a blink of light, every single box vanished, absorbed into his personal dimensional space.

Satisfied with his haul, William turned his attention to the furnace in the center. The flames beneath it still burned hot, indicating an active refining process. He took a step closer, intrigued by the subtle shift in the magical aura around the alchemical chamber.

Just then, a stern voice called out from the shadows.

"Who are you?!"

William snapped his head toward the voice and saw an elderly man emerge from a hidden alcove. He wore a flowing white robe, his long beard neatly braided, and his eyes gleamed with intelligence. The man looked more like a cultivator from Eastern myth than an Asgardian alchemist.

Before the old man could react further, William blurred into motion and appeared directly behind him, placing a shimmering blade across his throat.

"Don't make a sound," William whispered coldly. "If you do, I'll slit your throat right here."

The old man tensed but didn't struggle. "You... you're not an Asgardian. Who are you?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"That's not your concern. What I want to know is—how are you Asgardians capable of creating elixirs? This seems more like something out of a cultivation sect than an Asgardian workshop."

The elderly alchemist didn't hesitate. "Why wouldn't we be? We Asgardians are proficient in all kinds of knowledge from across the realms. Alchemy is just one of the many arts we've preserved and refined. Don't underestimate us."

William narrowed his eyes. Not just brute warriors after all, huh? "Tell me, what elixir are you brewing in the furnace right now?"

The old man raised his chin slightly, pride flashing in his gaze. "It's called the Glossary of Flow."

William's expression shifted, curiosity piqued. "What does it do?"

"It has numerous properties," the alchemist replied. "It enhances physical strength, extends lifespan, and greatly bolsters one's internal vitality. But that's not its most important trait. Its greatest function is the ability to merge two opposite energies or powers within the body, unifying them into a single, harmonious force."

William's eyes lit up, a calculating smile creeping across his face. "Now that's interesting. This 'Glossary of Flow' might be exactly what I've been searching for."

He stared at the blazing furnace, his thoughts racing. If this pill truly works... could it resolve the conflict between my deformable meta-cells and the T-cells? If it can harmonize different energies, it might stabilize the transformation process completely...

He turned his gaze back to the alchemist. "This pill is mine." If this pill is really that powerful, can it solve the compatibility problem between deformable meta-cells and T-cells? 'I can give it a try.'

*****

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