A high schooler on his walk home. A flash of light. And then—clouds. Endless white clouds, floating islands of marble, and a colossal arena filled with gods.
Kanata Crow has been pulled into Valhalla, the stage of Ragnarok—the final thirteen-round battle between gods and humanity, where a single loss could mean extinction. He doesn't know why he's here. He doesn't know how he arrived. But as he watches Thor, the God of Thunder, clash with the legendary Lü Bu Fengxian, he witnesses something no
Record of Ragnarok: Shadow of the Einherjar - The Gatekeeper's Discipline and the Broken Promise
The iron bars of the cell were beginning to catch the cold morning light. Kanata Crow sat on the stone floor, staring at a small scar on the back of his left hand. A scrape from falling off his bike as a kid. That time, he'd stood up before he even started crying.
His arms tightened around his knees. His messy black hair clung to his forehead. His light brown eyes reflected the darkness in the corner of the cell. Göll's smile flickered behind his eyelids. Fluffy chestnut hair. Tiny white wings fluttering. That bright, bouncing voice—"Kanata-kun!"—turning into a blood-soaked scream.
Kanata bit his lip. The taste of iron spread across his tongue.
(I ran.)
Even clenching his fists, the trembling wouldn't stop.
Clack. Clack.
Measured, heavy footsteps approached. Not a priest's. These were hard, each step utterly certain. Kanata raised his head.
A man stood beyond the iron bars. Blond hair swept straight back. White horns extending to either side. Golden eyes glaring sharply down at Kanata. A deep indigo cloak. At his hip, a massive horn—Gjallarhorn. Heimdall, the gatekeeper of Heaven.
Heimdall looked Kanata over like he was appraising livestock. His golden eyes betrayed nothing.
"Human. Kanata Crow, is it."
The low voice echoed through the cell. Kanata braced a hand against the wall and stood. His legs had gone numb.
"...That's right."
"I am Heimdall. Gatekeeper of Heaven, and commentator of Ragnarok. I have come today as witness to the execution of your banishment."
Execution of banishment. The words bounced off the stone walls and died. Kanata swallowed. His throat was dry. He hadn't had a drop of water since yesterday.
"Um, Heimdall-san. Would you hear me out?"
Kanata stepped closer to the bars and gripped the cold iron with both hands. Heimdall's brow shifted, just slightly.
"The rules do not forbid speaking with the condemned. And hearing a final plea before execution is part of a witness's duty. Be brief."
Kanata drew a breath.
"I heard the priests talking in secret in the underground archive. They said, 'We'll adjust the outcome of Round Four on our end.' Ragnarok is rigged from the start so the gods win!"
His voice grew louder. It bounced off the cell walls and came back at him.
"Göll got badly hurt protecting me. Because I saw something I shouldn't have. But Göll didn't do anything wrong. She just helped me!"
Kanata pressed his forehead against the bars.
"Please. Help Göll. She's still chained up in a cell. I don't even know if she's getting treatment. If this keeps up, she might die!"
Heimdall said nothing. His golden eyes looked down coldly at Kanata's desperate face.
"...Is that all you have to say?"
"Huh...?"
"Your story is baseless drivel. If you claim the priests committed wrongdoing, produce the evidence. If you cannot, never again let that blasphemous word—'suing the gods'—leave your mouth."
His voice was cold as ice.
"I don't have evidence right now! But I definitely heard it! That priest said it clearly—'We'll adjust the outcome of Round Four'!"
"Hmph. A mere human must have misheard the words of gods. Mortal ears cannot properly catch the conversations of the divine."
Kanata's fingers tightened on the bars. His nails scraped the iron with a small sound.
"It wasn't a mishearing! That priest even set a familiar beast on us to kill me and Göll! Göll was mauled by that thing!"
His voice was a shout now. Heimdall's expression didn't change.
"Rules are rules. Suing the gods without evidence disturbs the order of Heaven. Your words are no more than the wingbeat of an insect, scattered by the wind."
Something burst deep in Kanata's chest.
"Then why?!"
Heimdall's golden eyes widened, just barely.
"Why was I called to Heaven?! Why did an ordinary high schooler with no special powers fall into the world of the gods?! Why was I made to witness Ragnarok?! There's a reason, isn't there?! I'm here for some reason, aren't I?!"
His voice shook the air of the cell.
"And now I'm supposed to be banished?! Thrown down to the mortal realm knowing nothing, able to do nothing?! And what about Göll?! Göll is still suffering right now because she saved me!"
Tears were spilling over. He tried to stop them, but they wouldn't stop. Still gripping the bars with both hands, Kanata forced the words out.
"I... I want to protect Göll. She smiled at me. When I got lost, when I was scared, she was always right there beside me. And yet I... I ran. Her voice telling me to run pushed me, and I ran alone."
His voice trembled.
"I'm the worst. I'm the lowest excuse for a human being. But even so... this time, I want to protect Göll. Please, Heimdall-san. Give me a chance."
Silence fell over the cell. Heimdall stared at Kanata. Deep in his golden eyes, something wavered—just a little.
(This human...)
Heimdall clicked his tongue inwardly.
(Rules are rules. Lending an ear to a human's sniveling is unbecoming of a gatekeeper.)
And yet.
(Why. Why do this human's words pierce me?)
Heimdall's gaze caught on the small scar on the back of Kanata's left hand. The light of Heaven streaming through the cell window illuminated it.
(...That scar.)
Heimdall closed his eyes.
"...The execution is postponed until tomorrow morning."
Kanata lifted his head.
"What...?"
"By rule, the condemned is granted a night of rest before execution. Your execution will take place at dawn tomorrow. Until then, stay quiet here."
Heimdall turned his back.
"Wait! What about Göll?! What happens to Göll?!"
Heimdall stopped. He didn't turn around.
"...The Valkyrie Göll is detained by order of the Divine Council. That is not your concern."
"Please! Save her! She didn't do anything wrong!"
The shout was swallowed by the cell walls. Heimdall didn't look back again. Clack, clack—his footsteps receded.
Kanata clung to the bars and slid slowly to the floor.
"...Damn it... damn it..."
Tears fell onto the stone floor. Through the cell's small window, the light of Heaven shone in, cold and indifferent.
The sun tilted, and the cell grew dim. Kanata sat hugging his knees, thinking.
(Execution at dawn.)
(What can I do before then?)
(No—what *should* I do?)
There was only one answer.
(Go to the underground archive.)
His promise to Göll. "Don't go near the archive." He'd promised her, then. Göll had said it with a serious face. "You absolutely can't go in there."
(I'm breaking the promise.)
His chest tightened. He'd be betraying the seriousness in Göll's eyes. But.
(The only way to save Göll is evidence.)
(The only way to expose the priests' corruption is to go to that archive.)
Kanata peered out the cell window. Familiar beasts prowled around the cell, sniffing. Four-legged beasts. Red eyes. Like the one that had cornered him in the underground archive. Acting on the priests' secret orders, watching his every move.
(Slip past the watch.)
Kanata scanned the cell. Stone walls. Iron bars. A small window. In the corner, a cracked stone. He'd noticed before that it seemed a little loose. Kanata put his hand on it.
Nngh.
He pushed. The stone shifted slightly.
(It'll work.)
Kanata steadied his breathing. He waited for the familiar beast to move to the far side of the cell.
(Now.)
He shoved the stone out in one motion. With a small clatter, it came free. A gap opened in the cell wall—barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through. Kanata slid his body into it.
Cold night air stung his skin. Nights in Heaven were far colder than in the mortal realm. Shivering, Kanata emerged outside the cell. The familiar beast was still on the far side. Holding his breath, he moved along the wall. Slowly, without a sound.
(Sorry, Göll.)
He apologized in his heart.
(I'm breaking our promise.)
(But this time, I'm the one who protects you.)
Kanata broke into a run toward the northern cliffs of Heaven.
The northern cliffs of Heaven were dim even in daylight. Perched at the edge of the sea of clouds, cold wind rushed up from below. Kanata retraced the site of the collapse, searching for the entrance to the underground archive.
(It should be around here...)
He picked his way through the rubble, relying on memory. Past the collapsed passage, there should be a heavy stone door. He'd made his promise with Göll in front of that door.
"You absolutely can't go in there."
Göll's voice echoed in the back of his mind. Kanata bit his lip.
(I know. I know, but...)
The door was half open. Kanata stopped.
(It's open...)
Left ajar from the daytime secret meeting? Or had someone passed through recently? A chill ran down his spine.
(I'm going in.)
He crushed his fear and stepped through the gap in the door.
Inside the underground archive, it was pitch black. The musty air stung his nose. Kanata braced a hand against the wall and moved slowly. The cold of ancient stone seeped into his fingertips.
(Some kind of light...)
He searched his pockets. Nothing. Everything had been taken when they'd chained him in the cell.
(My eyes are adjusting.)
In the gloom, the archive's outline emerged. A high ceiling. Countless bookshelves. Ancient script carved across the walls. Kanata moved between the shelves.
(The priests must have written something down.)
(They must have recorded the details of that secret meeting somewhere.)
He checked the shelves one by one. Scrolls. Old books. Stone tablets. All written in the language of the gods—unreadable to Kanata.
(Damn it... I can't read it.)
As he pushed deeper, something rustled underfoot. Kanata froze.
(Paper...?)
A single scrap of paper lay on the floor. He picked it up and squinted. Hasty, disordered handwriting. And yet, strangely, Kanata could read it. Since coming to Heaven, the language of the gods had been coming to him, bit by bit.
"Round Four: Divine Representative vs. Human Representative"
"Victory condition: Victory of the Divine Representative"
"Method of manipulation: Ascertain the opponent's weaknesses in advance and steer the course of the match."
"Step one: Before the match, introduce a trace amount of divine aura into the Human Representative's weapon."
"Step two: In the early stages, the Divine Representative targets the opponent's dominant hand."
"Step three: At the moment the opponent unleashes their ultimate technique, release divine aura from the stands to slow their movements."
"Step four: The Divine Representative delivers the finishing blow."
Kanata's hands trembled.
(This is it...)
(This is part of the hidden rules...)
He clutched the paper. His fingertips went white against it.
(The gods have been rigging the matches from the very beginning.)
(Round Four is engineered so the divine side wins for certain.)
Rage surged in his chest. Lü Bu's battle against Thor. That time, Kanata had been moved. His heart had burned at the sight of a human wounding a god.
(But even that might have been staged.)
He pressed the paper to his chest.
(This is evidence.)
(I'll take this and shout the truth in front of everyone.)
When he looked up, an old inscription on the archive wall caught his eye.
(...What is this?)
Ancient script packed densely across the entire wall. Older than the language of the gods of Heaven. He could only make out fragments.
"...The Valkyrie is... the bearer of souls..."
"...Offer up her body... become a divine weapon..."
"...The price is..."
(The price...?)
He tried to read on, but the script was too old—only fragments were legible.
(The Valkyries' origins, and the price of forging a divine weapon...)
(Göll said she couldn't forge a divine weapon. Is this connected?)
Questions swirled in his head. But now wasn't the time.
(Right now, I take this paper back with me.)
He tucked the scrap into his coat—and that was when it happened.
"...That's far enough, human."
A chill shot down his spine. He spun around. Heimdall stood in the entrance of the underground archive. His golden eyes glinted in the darkness.
"Heimdall...-san..."
"Escaping your cell and trespassing in a forbidden zone. Str
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