While the two elder sisters journeyed across time to observe historical events, Grey had idly browsed through profiles of notable figures. Among them was Lu Bu Fengxian—someone her sisters had mentioned before.
But the more Grey learned about him, the less she trusted him—especially with Lantigris' safety.
This was a man who had slaughtered enough to form mountains of corpses, and then casually dismissed it all as "boring." A man who so thoroughly disdained life that Grey found him terrifying.
If it were up to her, she'd rather have Lantigris become a sacred weapon for Gilgamesh or Solomon. Yes, they were fearsome, but at least their brutality was reserved for gods.
That said—would those kings even need a Valkyrie's help?
Solomon commanded seventy-two demon gods. He likely needed no external power.
Gilgamesh, on the other hand, owned countless divine weapons—what use would he have for another?
"No way, Brunhilde-sister! That man's awful, you don't understand how savage he is!" Grey protested sharply. The thought of her beautiful sister teaming up with such a brute made her heart ache.
"I've made my decision. He's the one. Lantigris, I'm counting on you," Brunhilde said firmly.
It wasn't random. Lu Bu's raw combat prowess paired remarkably well with Lantigris' nature and capabilities.
Brunhilde moved to initiate the summoning. Confirm.
And then—
"Hm?" She frowned.
The summoning panel showing Lu Bu Fengxian froze mid-activation, its glow sputtering.
"Brunhilde-sister, what's happening?" Grey asked nervously, eyes fixed on the screen.
The light dimmed—not like it vanished, but as if someone splashed ink across it, dark streaks flowing downward to obscure everything.
A burst of black light followed. Darkness swallowed their vision.
When it cleared—
"Brunhilde-sister!" Grey screamed.
A hand had shot forth, gripping Brunhilde's neck, lifting her into the air.
She'd warned them. Summoning someone so callous with life was a mistake. He hadn't even arrived yet and he was already attacking a Valkyrie.
"Who gave you permission to hand over the one I've claimed?" The voice that followed was chilling, heavy enough to freeze the very air.
"You—!" Brunhilde recognized him instantly. Shock gave way to bitter laughter.
So he truly saw Lantigris as his own?
She had neglected this one amid the dazzling allure of other kings—an oversight born of proximity.
But was he responding to the call?
Was he stepping in to replace Lu Bu as one of the thirteen human representatives—for the very first battle?
If so… he was unquestionably more fitting.
Lantigris, meanwhile, recognized the voice too, her worried gaze flickering with emotion.
"Lord Hegemon…"
She whispered the title softly.
Had he really chosen her—wanted her to be his own Consort Yu?
But he was a relic of history. Or… maybe not?
If his soul had been transferred to a mechanical body… could he still be alive?
Survive for two thousand years?
"Hegemon?" Grey blinked. Lu Bu had such a title?
Wait—no. That hand didn't belong to Lu Bu. Their reaction confirmed it.
Then, the darkened panel slowly revealed an image—not Lu Bu Fengxian, but a man of commanding presence, refined yet firm in demeanor.
Most striking of all were his eyes—he bore the rare trait of dual pupils.
The panel expanded into a door-sized gateway, and the man stepped out of it.
His virtual image became flesh, radiating murderous intent. Grey could feel it like pressure in her chest.
Compared to Thor himself, this man's physique was equally mountainous. To Grey, he looked capable of crushing her with a single slap.
Still afraid, she mustered her courage and opened her lips to speak—
"Let go of Brunh—"
But just one glance from those dual pupils froze her solid. It felt like her soul had been pierced.
All courage drained. She could no longer speak.
"The Emperor has sent me to represent humanity in the first battle."
—
Chapter 053: Ragnarok – First Match
Two figures walked side by side along a spiraling staircase toward the observation deck.
They weren't atop the arena yet, but the roar of spectators echoed unmistakably below.
On one side were divine viewers—lesser gods—jeering and boasting about how humanity would be crushed.
Across from them were crowds of humans from different ages and nations, but their voices barely registered.
Not because their numbers were too small, or their lungs too weak—no, the real reason was psychological.
Most humans had little hope for this so-called "Ragnarok."
Correction: it wasn't that they doubted it—it was that they were lost, bewildered.
In their minds, the idea of humans fighting gods was foolish. Like insects trying to halt a chariot. Utter delusion.
It was nothing but a futile struggle.
Some were even more pessimistic, wishing the event would be canceled. To them, it was simply an invitation to humiliation—a spectacle of shame.
"Brunhilde-sister… is he really the right choice?" Grey asked nervously, trailing behind.
The man was undeniably formidable, perhaps stronger than Lu Bu. But could he truly win?
The god set to appear in the first match was likely Thor himself.
Could any human possibly stand a chance?
Thor, according to Norse myth, was the strongest of all—not even Odin was guaranteed to win against him. His strength was considered divine-tier.
Brunhilde's answer was calm, emotionless.
"We'll see in battle."
But inwardly, she was pondering something else:
If this man had been sent by the First Emperor… did that mean the Emperor himself had chosen not to participate?
"I see…" Grey fell quiet. Her sister's mood didn't seem ideal, and pushing too hard might provoke her.
They were less than ten steps from the gate now. The sound of divine voices grew louder and more violent.
Barbed mockery spilled freely.
Stepping into the observation platform, Grey was met with a sight that made her blood run cold.
A vast coliseum stretched before them—colossal in size.
And the moment some gods spotted Brunhilde, vicious glances were thrown her way, as if they'd feast upon her with their eyes.
"Brunhilde, watch your little champion get torn to pieces."
"A mere demigod dares throw mortals into war against us? Is this one last taste of humiliation before extinction?"
"Can't wait to see your pathetic face twisted in despair as your chosen warrior is massacred!"
"Think she'll cry?"
Malice. Everywhere.
Then—
"If you do cry, come into my embrace. I'll comfort you well, little Brunhilde~"
The loudest voice made Grey wince.
Zeus—the chief god of Greek mythology.
He cast a lecherous gaze in their direction and blew kisses toward Brunhilde.
Utterly disgusting. Filthy old man.
Grey could only curse him silently. She dared not speak out nor show revulsion openly.
But—
"Lecherous old man. Could you not stare over here? It's sickening."
Brunhilde spoke aloud, boldly.
Grey stiffened in shock.
Suddenly, the crowd went silent.
At the center of the coliseum, Heimdall—Ragnarok's gatekeeper and official commentator—began his passionate address.
"At last, the final trumpet of destiny will once again sound!"
"The battle between humanity and the gods begins. The rule is simple—once one side dies, the other wins."
No surrender. No retreat.
Step onto the battlefield, and only one can leave.
Cheers erupted on the divine side—waves of anticipation, eager to witness godly violence.
"It's really happening, Brunhilde-sister…" Grey gulped.
And then—
"For the first match… the gods' champion is—"
Who?
Heimdall waved toward the arena gate.
It opened.
From its depths surged a terrifying pressure.
The passage was too long to see the figure clearly, but violent lightning crackled from within.
Brunhilde had guessed correctly.
It was—
"Everyone has long awaited a true glimpse of his might. A warrior born and destined to fight. With a hammer that can shatter the earth itself—behold, the berserker of thunder and might, strongest of Norse gods: Thor!"
The moment his name rang out, the coliseum exploded in cheers that shook the heavens.
Thor stepped into view.
Handsome. Towering. One arm held a lightning-infused hammer larger than any grown man.
His mere presence made gods feel like they were carrying mountains. One gaze from him made them instinctively avert their eyes.
And for humanity?
Panic. Dread.
They had hoped the gods would hold back—but the strongest warrior was already stepping up.
"Brunhilde-sister… is it really okay? Can we actually win?" Grey whispered.