Looking at the fiery red meteorite blazing across the sky, everyone stood frozen, dumbfounded and overwhelmed.
What should they do?
Escape was nearly impossible. While they could perhaps avoid the initial impact, the sheer radius of destruction from the falling meteorite far exceeded the point of collision.
Rowe knew better than most—some celestial meteorites carried devastation far beyond the reach of even the most powerful nuclear warheads from the later technological eras.
As the meteorite loomed ever larger in their vision, panic took hold. A soldier collapsed to the ground, clutching his head and screaming incoherently as he broke down. Many others went pale, rooted to the spot in fear.
Rowe clenched his fists. "Everyone, follow me! Don't take a single step away!"
"Did you hear me?! Follow me!" he bellowed again. "If you want to live, stay behind me!"
The team snapped out of their daze, rushing behind Rowe, pressing together tightly in fear.
Rowe cast a Divine Protection on the little prince, added a King's Blessing, removed his own dragonhide armor and wrapped it around the child. He then shoved the bundled prince into Skorch's arms.
"Skorch, protect the little prince with that thick fat of yours," Rowe said grimly.
Skorch nodded and tucked the prince inside his shirt, wrapping him tightly with both arms and belly.
Rowe followed up with another Divine Protection that enveloped all the team members.
By now, the meteorite was nearly upon them—seconds away from impact. They could feel the wind pressure building from the flaming rock's descent.
"Go!" Rowe shouted after estimating the trajectory of the impact point.
The group sprinted behind him with all their might.
Within seconds, the meteorite loomed in the sky diagonally overhead, mere kilometers above. At its speed, that distance was a blink away.
Rowe skidded to a halt and squatted, gripping the Scarlet Commander's Shield with both hands.
Slamming it into the ground, the Holy Light shimmered, fusing with the shield's energy to form an enormous radiating barrier. He activated Holy Light Shield—twice, one per hand.
The radiant barrier protected Rowe and the cluster of teammates behind him. Simultaneously, he invoked the Sanctuary deep within.
Sacrifice Aura!
This sacred aura redirected half the damage from his allies onto the Paladin himself.
But Rowe knew—absorbing half the force of a celestial meteorite was suicide. Without proper defense, he'd be vaporized.
That was why Sacrifice Aura had to pair with Divine Shield—an invincible barrier that could withstand nearly anything.
As the meteorite shrieked within a few hundred meters, Rowe's eyes locked onto it. Sweat streamed from his palms.
"Divine Shield!" he roared.
The runes surged to life. Holy light cloaked his form.
And then—
BOOM!!!
The meteorite struck the ground a hundred meters from them, exploding with an apocalyptic roar.
A blinding white light erupted, tearing through the darkness like a miniature sun piercing the abyss.
Flames that could melt enchanted steel exploded outward. Shockwaves strong enough to pulverize mountains raced across the terrain.
The land directly around the impact site evaporated—ripped apart, vaporized, and torn to pieces. Had anyone been able to see clearly in that moment, they would have witnessed the instant formation of a massive crater, a gaping scar on the earth.
Rowe gritted his teeth and stood firm behind the barrier.
The dual Holy Light Shields held for one moment—just long enough.
Then—shatter.
The shields broke under the immense pressure. The shockwave and searing flame burst through, flinging the Scarlet Commander's Shield backward, slamming it against Rowe like a battering ram.
Were it not for Divine Shield, that hit alone might have knocked him unconscious.
The Sacrifice Aura did its work, flickering on his teammates as the divine energy redistributed their pain—channeling it all back to Rowe.
After a full second, the Divine Shield faded, and the Sacrifice Aura followed suit.
"BOOM…"
Without Divine Shield, the full audio force of the impact struck Rowe's ears like a thunderclap. His hearing buzzed painfully.
"Ah!" The shockwave finally reached him. Though crouched, the force hurled him through the air—and his comrades as well.
Luckily, that single second of divine buffer had absorbed the brunt of the meteorite's might.
Moments later, silence returned.
Smoke cleared.
The scorched earth around the newly formed crater was still glowing with residual heat.
Everyone began to stir and rise.
They were bloody, bruised, and groaning. Most coughed or bled from their mouths. But… they were alive.
"We're alive?" someone gasped, in total disbelief.
Rowe grabbed his shield, still panting, and rushed toward Skorch.
"How's the little prince?" he asked anxiously.
A muffled cry came from Skorch's shirt. "Waaaah!"
Hearing that sound, Rowe finally exhaled.
However, Skorch had a strange expression. He reached into his shirt and grimaced as his fingers brushed against something soft and warm.
"…Yeah. He's definitely fine," Rowe said after a moment. "That's a healthy color."
Skorch: "…"
Meanwhile, atop the distant tower, Troll Master Muthurs stared, thunderstruck.
He watched the scene—Rowe's entire team intact—and stammered.
"How… How is this possible?" he muttered, aghast. "Not even one casualty?"
Clutching his chest as though suffering a stroke, the old sorcerer rallied what strength he had and lifted his staff, preparing to call down a second meteorite.
But Rowe's group had no intention of giving him that chance.
"Move out!"
Though battered and limping, morale surged. They sprinted forward and finally broke free of the magic circle's boundary.
"Crack!" Rowe crushed the Orb of All-Seeing.
A familiar voice echoed in their minds.
"You did well," came the voice of Ullur, gatekeeper of Asgard.
A shimmering rainbow cascade—the Bifrost Bridge—pierced the sky and bathed them in divine light.
In the blink of an eye, the team was whisked away and returned to the Odin camp.
The second meteorite, halfway formed in the heavens, dissipated without sound. It fizzled out like a held-back fart.
"Whew…"
Looking at the familiar base, the team exhaled deeply. Some collapsed where they stood, legs no longer able to support them.
Rowe, along with deputy captains Fairwind and Skorch, made their way to the command post—little prince in tow, freshly diapered.
"Lord Odin, we have successfully rescued Prince Hogan," Rowe reported.
Odin examined the infant, then smiled at the three soldiers.
"I see your mission went off-course—but you handled it well. Will you tell me the whole story?"
"Of course, Lord Odin," said Fairwind, ever the chatterbox. He immediately launched into a detailed recount, showing no signs of stopping.
After a few minutes, Odin's brow twitched.
"…Then we reached the outer walls. Oh! There might have been a tunnel nearby. Didn't get a good look though. Probably nothing important. And then—"
"Wait," Odin interrupted, suddenly alert. "Did you say… tunnel?"
Fairwind blinked. "Yes, Lord Odin. Why?"
Odin's face darkened.