It seed like just a few words spoken into the void, yet they caused Olavur's Combat Power to undergo an Earth-Shattering transformation!
He could feel sothing originating from his bloodline slowly awakening. That special energy transmitted from his heart to his limbs. It was the power of the gods.
To be more precise, it was the power of Odin!
The bloodline of the King of the Gods flowed through this hero's body. Even if it was thin, it was still the Blood of the God-King!
(Sigurd was a descendant of Odin's Offspring, so this statent was entirely accurate.)
As courage and fearlessness surged within him, Olavur could clearly feel that instinctive power pouring out from his body!
"Yes, exactly. As Odin's Offspring, I must protect the people of the gods!"
Sigurd's Lingering Echo seed to still resonate in his ears. That ancient power was gradually reviving his will.
Manifested on the battlefield, it was the mont for the Dragon Slayer's Edge to instantly erupt!
His muscles bulged, and his gaze grew firm. Under the catalyst of his will, the Greatsword in his hand gradually surged with Bloody Power. That was the bloodlust tainted from slaying monsters of the Dragon Race!
In his hands, this Bloody Power transford into a Blood-Red Spear. He hurled it out instantly, and in a flash, it pierced through the Dragon's wing.
"Roar!" A terrifying howl wrapped in an even deeper fear echoed out. By the ti the Dragon realized it was injured, it had already been pinned dead to the ground, stripping away any possibility of rising again.
anwhile, the Dragon Slayer slowly landed on the ground. Dragging his Greatsword, he approached the Dragon step by step!
"Roar!" The monster born from greed had long since lost its own will, leaving only the most basic look of avarice. Yet, precisely because of this pure greed, it appeared even more brutal!
It forcefully tore at its own wings. Amidst dripping blood, it ripped its wings apart. Relying on this cruelty, it regained the freedom of its body.
The Dragon dragged its body to stand on the ground, continuing its battle as a Four-Legged Monster!
The battle was still on the verge of breaking out again, but the advantages and disadvantages had undergone an Earth-Shattering reversal during that brief clash!
Wariness appeared in the Behemoth's eyes, whereas the Dragon Slayer's eyes held nothing but boiling fighting spirit!
"Co! Evil Beast that spews the Golden Prison!
Let's see if you can lt through this Breastplate Cast from Frozen Earth!"
Olavur shouted loudly, as if he were truly a Warrior who had crossed over from ancient tis. Bathed in dragon blood, he brandished his Greatsword and charged at the Dragon once more!
As if responding to his roar, the Dragon fell silent for a mont before opening its mouth at the powerful Dragon Slayer!
A low growl echoed from its Dragon Throat, and the Scent of Sulfur continuously gathered and rose within its mouth. Just as Olavur charged right in front of it, its chest violently contracted!
"A Deep Breath... it's coming!" soone among the spectating crowd said. Everyone's hearts leapt to their throats as they watched the Dragon open its mouth, unleashing raging flas!
"Boom!" The distant buildings were ignited by this mouthful of Dragon Breath. As for the Dragon Slayer, he was completely buried in the flas, his figure obscured.
But for so reason, everyone felt that he would be perfectly fine!
Sure enough, a chant rang out:
"With every Dandelion in the Vígríðr adow as my witness!
My Spine shall serve as the Boundary Marker plunged into dragon's blood!"
A Greatsword thrust out of the fire, carrying the man behind it as they burst through the flas together. That steady and resolute figure delivered an unspeakable shock to all who watched!
He cleaved the roaring flas apart with his sword. His red dragon armor was ignited by the blaze, causing his body to burn brightly like a Torch.
Then, the fire was rapidly absorbed by the armor. The dragon-slaying hero had already arrived in front of the Dragon. Just as the creature attempted to launch another attack, he plunged his sword straight into its skull.
The curse carried within the Holy Sword instantly destroyed its cranial nerves the mont it pierced flesh, causing the Dragon to crash heavily to the ground amidst a low hum!
This Dragon, born in a curse, was destined to die on a cursed sword. And the dragon-slaying hero had finally carried on his Mission!
At this mont, everyone's gazes converged there. They looked at the dragon-slaying hero and the Dragon collapsed on the ground, feeling as though the story had co to an end...
Only then did the crowd shift their attention away from the Dragon and the Dragon Slayer to their surroundings.
All around them were ruins, rubble, and fla-scorched debris. It was a destroyed city, displaying the terrifying nature of the disaster to everyone.
anwhile, in the Livestream Room of the Livestrear standing on high ground, Bullet Comnts were scrolling madly: "Strear, the bank was smashed open. Do you think there's still leftover money and gold inside?"
"Yeah, there has to be gold inside, right? If I grab so, wouldn't I strike it rich?"
"Exactly. The city is in such chaos right now, no one would notice, right?"
The emotion known as "greed" spread throughout the entire Livestream Room in an instant, causing many viewers to grow restless with temptation!
However, these restless urges were instantly quashed by a single sentence from the Livestrear: "What are you thinking? There are at least a hundred livestreams in Reykjavik today, all pointed right here. If they want to catch people later, do you really think anyone could get away?"
His words acted like a bucket of cold water poured over everyone's hearts, completely extinguishing their greedy thoughts!
Desire ca fast and left just as quickly, surging violently like a flash of light before abruptly vanishing... That was the lingering echo of greed, yet also the clearest note of a realist, as the wise words extinguished those final urges!
Among all the observers, none were closer to the battlefield than Professor Tore Erik. He had almost crossed through the ruins and reached Olavur's side, arriving at the true core of this battlefield.
"The mont the Holy Sword pierces and shatters the Jawbone, The Dragon Skull transforms into the North's eternal Signal Tower, And where his Fractured tacarpals are buried deep, Spring Wheat pierces the Scorched Earth to kiss the dawn!"
He chanted the Ancient Ballads, but an even more brilliant light in his eyes bore witness. In the area where the Dragon had fallen and the sword had tested its edge, he clearly saw a trace of Greenery actually erging from beneath the ancient soil!
Was this not the exact materialization of the Viking Warrior's Proverb: "Hide your edge in the winter snow, wait for the spring to ignite the plains"?
These poems of the past were continuing bit by bit right here, turning into the reality before his eyes. It caused this old professor, who had studied geology his entire life, to suddenly well up with tears!
"How wonderful... how wonderful... These belong to us... This is our story, just like Andersen's Fairy Tales, an indelible mark rooted deeply in our mories..."
Tore sighed with deep emotion.
As soone from a Small Nation with Sparse Population, yet part of the group that had truly "awakened," he suffered imnsely.
Because he had truly seen the vastness of the world and witnessed everything a powerful nation ought to be capable of. Yet behind him stood not a nation that could support his beliefs and hopes, but the Nordic Five—fragnted, their courage and ambitions ground away by major powers, their very regions dismantled according to a design.
Thus, he could only pour his Passion into his research, allowing his spirit to remain hidden as it was worn away by ti.
It was just like a young boy yearning for heroes who ultimately had all traces of his identity erased.
But now, looking at the Dragon Slayer—his own student, Olavur—Tore Erik suddenly saw the hope for their race's rise!
The old man watched all of this and looked at the surrounding flas. Suddenly, as if grasping a profound truth, he took out the History Book from his coat.
The book he had retrieved from the cave was less of a History Book and more of a Mythological Story.
The book detailed the entire journey of the Germanic Gods, from their initial rise to their eventual descent into Ragnarok. It wasn't too different from the stories they already knew; there wasn't much new information.
The only relatively novel aspects were the songs, prayers, and Rituals contained within. Those things, which seed to have been recorded casually, had now beco the source of his greatest Expectation.
If the gaze of the gods fell upon them, and with the reliance on a fresh driving force like Olavur, could their nation also stand tall among the nations of the world?
To be a little greedier, could they continue to expand their reach and return to their forr position as the overlords of Northern Europe?
Could they even reclaim the power belonging to the Nordics and spread their faith across the Pan-Germanic region once again?
Pondering these things, Tore opened to the last page of the book. On it was a prayer to the King of the Gods. It was very short, only a single passage.
Yet, as if possessed, he softly murmured that prayer:
"You are the Father of Mist Weavers, the Embodint of Wisdom, the Nine-Night Hanger!
At this mont! Sworn by Your Single Eye that drank from the spring of wisdom—
Let my Footprint burn through the Mist Barrier, stepping into a Star Map branded upon the Bronze Floor Tiles of Valhalla!"
This old professor was actually calling out Odin's na directly, pleading for his guidance!
The White-Haired Scholar's plea even caused Bai Yang, who had already arrived in Italy, to cast a sidelong glance!
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