Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby

Chapter 247: Eye of Wisdom

The moment the light struck the centre of her forehead, a cold sensation bloomed. It spread from her brow

through her skull, then seeped into every vein, every fibre of her being.

Then, an unstoppable tide of memory that was not her own surged into her mind. It was not mere knowledge but

a symphony of sensation, image, and truth that crashed into her consciousness, threatening to drown her.

Reality itself was rewritten in its wake.

She shivered violently. This was not the fleeting chill of winter's breath, but a deep, root-born cold, seeping up

from beneath the very earth and rising through the soles of her feet until it swallowed her whole.

The white trial ground was gone.

She stood instead as a lone consciousness at the base of a tree so vast its branches seemed to hold the heavens

aloft. The colossal trunk shimmered like gold-veined mahogany, ageless and eternal. Roots like interconnected

rivers pulsed with the colours of life... blue, green, gold, and white. While far above, the branches vanished into

clouds of starlight, glowing with an emerald radiance that bathed the skies.

"Yggdrasil!"

The ncunbidden to her mind, not as sound but as a fundamental truth, as certain as her own existence.

The air itself thrummed with ancient power, vibrating with a resonance older than time. At the roots, nestled in a

cradle of gnarled wood, a pool of luminous water glowed with bioluminescence. Its light was soft, sacred, and

heavenly. She felt herself drawn to it with a pull beyond will.

"Mimir’s Well."

The second nstruck her with equal certainty.

And then she saw a figure of immense presence emerged from the shadows of memory. Cloaked in storms, he

carried an aura of both wrath and yearning. His face was a landscape etched with fierce intelligence, profound

sacrifice, and a longing so vast it seared like fire. She felt it within him... the unbearable thirst for knowledge, a

hunger so deep it was not desire but pain.

"Odin!"

The nresonated in her core. The All-Father, a king who understood that power without wisdom was a hollow

crown.

He bowed his head before the well, reverence woven into the gesture. His voice rang out, not in thunder, but in

solemnity.

"My Lord, | have journeyed to the wellspring of all knowing. You know the trials | have endured to reach your

presence. My thirst for knowledge is unquenchable, and I will not leave unsatisfied. Whatever price you demand,

| shall pay."

From the depths of the well, something stirred.

A figure rose, not wholly a man, but a being born of water itself... fluid and eternal. His form shifted as though he

were woven of liquid memory, until, slowly, he took on a vivid, lifelike shape.

He was tall, even by Odin’s measure, yet not brutish. He loomed like a giant, his frakin to an ancient oak...

gnarled, weathered, and immovable. There was strength there, but not of raw violence; it was the strength of

roots that had endured storms since the dawn of time.

His face was long and austere, crowned with a high forehead marked not by worry, but by the etchings of

endless thought. His eyes were the most striking thing about him... vast and fathomless, the colour of the deep

sea beneath a storm-laden sky. Within them burned a calm, unblinking light, the eternal patience of one who had

watched worlds turn and fall.

His hair and beard, long and flowing, were the colour of stone and moss. Strands were tied with simple cords,

others adorned with tiny beads etched in runes so ancient they seemed to hum faintly. He wore only a plain

leather robe, practical, unadorned... like a monk, or a hermit who needed nothing of vanity.

Yet what caught the eye most were the horns.

Great, sweeping horns jutted from either side of his forehead. One was whole, glowing faintly with a light that

seemed drawn from the marrow of the earth. The other was broken, jagged at its edge... a wound, a symbol,

perhaps both.

This was Mimir, guardian of the well.

When he spoke, it was not sound but resonance, like stone grinding in the earth’s depths, like rivers cutting their

patient paths through epochs. The voice filled Eleanor’s mind, heavy as truth itself.

"The knowledge you seek has a steep price, Odin. Go back. Not all knowledge is meant for everyone."

But Odin’s answer cswift, his voice threaded with iron. "I will pay any price for knowledge."

Mimir regarded him, his gaze unblinking. "Even if you drank the waters dry, you would still err. You would still die,

undone by your own fate. Do you still desire it?"

"I do," Odin said, his resolve unshaken.

"Then know this," Mimir intoned, "all who would learn must pay. To glimpse the secrets of the universe, you must

surrender a part of yourself. For you, seeker of the unknown, the price is perception itself. | will not be cruel as

my predecessor was. The cost is but one eye. Half of your vision to see the unknown."

There was no hesitation. Not the faintest flicker of doubt.

Eleanor felt it... Odin’s terrifying resolve. A will so absolute it eclipsed fear. To him, wisdom was dearer than flesh,

truth dearer than sight. The thirst for knowledge burned brighter than pain, brighter than the sanctity of the

body.

In an act both brutal and sacred, Odin reached up. His fingers dug without tremor into the hollow of his face. He

tore out his eye.

Golden blood welled, spilling down his cheek, shining like liquid sun.

The pain was not a flash but a deep, wrenching severance. Eleanor gasped, her own vision swimming as if she

herself were surrendering part of her sight. It was not merely the agony of torn flesh, but the vertigo of

relinquishing perception... the willing surrender of half one’s vision for the sake of truth.

Then Odin dropped the eye into the well.

It sank slowly, a gleaming, bloody pearl descending into impossibly clear water. Yet it did not cloud the depths.

Instead, the well received it, as if the sacrifice belonged. The eye merged with the waters, becoming part of their

essence... an eternal testament to the price paid.

Mimir reached into the pool with calm inevitability and drew forth a broken great horn. Its surface shimmered

now with a deeper, more terrible light. He offered it to Odin.

The draught was not water. It was everything.

As the liquid touched Odin’s lips, Eleanor’s mind fractured and was remade. She witnessed the birth of stars, the

collapse of worlds, the whisper of the world’s end. She felt the weight of history and the tremor of futures yet

unborn. It was not a ledger of knowledge, but a living comprehension of interconnection... the great weave of

fate, war, life, and death.

And in that instant, she understood the true nature of his sacrifice.

Odin had surrendered one eye, but in return he gained a vision beyond flesh. He had traded the power to look at

things for the wisdom to see them. He did not beca god who knew all; he becthe wisest of gods

because he understood how truth revealed itself.

The flood of memory snapped shut. Eleanor collapsed to her knees upon the blackness of the vault, her breath

tearing in ragged gasps. A searing pain pulsed at the centre of her forehead, fierce and unrelenting. Something

was carving itself into her, merging with her very being.

The agony becunbearable. She fainted as the pain lanced outward from her forehead like fire.

Yet just before the darkness claimed her, knowledge crystallised in her mind:

[Eye of Wisdom / Odin’s Eye]

Level 1: When opened, it eliminates ignorance, illusion, and desire, leading to complete freedom from worldly

attachment.

Level 2: Locked.

Level 3: Locked.

Level 4: Locked.

Level 5: Locked.

Level 6: Locked.

Level 7: Locked.

Level 8: Locked.

Level 9: Locked.

[To unlock the next level, master the previous one.]

ork

In the teleportation room, Professor

Sylpha, the Chief Sergeant, and the

other cadets waited with solemn

faces. It had been mo@xhén ten

minted ice the last cadet returned

from the Vault of Yggdrasil. Everyone

else had already completed their

trials and claimed their rewards.

Though none spoke aloud of the gifts

they had received, each one was a

success. The content is on

novelenglish.net! Read the latest

chapter there!

But Eleanor alone remained within

the vault. With every passing minute,

: Nn

the professor's expressipn@reW

darker. Shékriew the trials were not

fatal, yet there was always the risk of

harm if one dared to grasp

something far beyond their limit. The

content is on novelenglish.net! Read

the latest chapter there!

Ophelia, Maira, Jaciara, and Joshua stood together off to one side, their faces grave. Worry for Eleanor gnawed at

them so fiercely that they could not even savour their own triumphs.

Then, at last, the teleportation gate

shimmered with a dazzling white

light, and Eleanor gre oyt of itl

Spragaicas rly wrong. Before

she could collapse, Chief Sergeant

moved like lightning, catching her

mid-air and lowering her carefully to

the floor. The content is on

novelenglish.net! Read the latest

chapter there!

Her chest rose and fell with steady breaths... she was alive, but unconscious.

Professor Sylpha stepped forward. "Letexamine her. | am no specialised healer, but | know the basics of

restoration."

She ran her hands gently over Eleanor, murmuring spells under her breath. After a few moments, relief softened

her face.

"She is unharmed... merely unconscious. | shall bring her to the Healers’ Pavilion for further care. Sergeant Major

Ironclaw, please see that the others return to their dormitories."

With that, she lifted Eleanor into her arms and carried her out of the teleportation room.

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