The fact that he would only participate if his demand was met actually made Brunhilde breathe a sigh of relief.
This meant there was room for negotiation—a way to involve this First Emperor in [Ragnarök].
"What is your condition?"
She hoped it wouldn't be too unreasonable, so Brunhilde tensed up nervously.
"You shall become my divine weapon."
This was the First Emperor's demand?
To Brunhilde, such a request was both expected and unexpected.
As the First Emperor, if he were to choose a Valkyrie as his match, it would naturally be her, the eldest sister.
He likely believed she alone was worthy of becoming his divine weapon.
What surprised her, however, was how agreeable the First Emperor seemed.
"Brunhilde is honored to become Your Majesty's divine weapon."
She showed no hesitation, agreeing without reservation.
No matter what, she had to accept first—the situation was in his favor, and refusal might mean never returning.
Yet the moment she agreed, the First Emperor's gaze sent chills creeping down her spine.
His eyes seemed to dissect her skin, analyzing every element that constituted the being known as [Brunhilde].
No, more accurately—he sought to study the nature of divinity itself.
To understand the difference between humans and gods, and how demigods came to be.
Was she... being treated as experimental material?
For a moment, Brunhilde felt her scalp tingle with dread, a wave of fear washing over her.
Her pupils contracted as the figure seated at the far end of the hall rose and began walking toward her.
When he came within arm's reach, Brunhilde suddenly felt the urge to flee.
"Then let me witness this so-called divine weapon forging."
His voice was gentle, almost conversational, yet carried an unyielding will.
Especially at such close proximity, Brunhilde found herself entirely enveloped by his aura, experiencing unprecedented pressure.
Trembling slightly, she raised her hand toward the emperor before her.
She couldn't tell whether she was forcing herself to reach out despite her fear or if her body had been unconsciously compelled by his words, which carried the weight of a divine command.
'Sister—' Randgriz could only scream inwardly. She would have spoken aloud if possible, but the emperor's overwhelming presence rendered her immobile.
"Valkyrie Brunhilde—Divine Weapon Forging."
The words left Brunhilde's lips with a faint tremor.
If fortune or calamity couldn't be avoided, she might as well comply fully.
The moment she finished speaking, she felt herself merging with him.
No!
It felt as though the First Emperor before her was devouring her whole.
She felt a surge of power attaching itself to her body, piercing through her clothing, eroding her skin, and then seeping inward—permeating every inch of her being, every cell, even her soul.
She also sensed her consciousness blurring, felt herself being dismantled.
Every element that constituted [Brunhilde] was being deciphered.
Her awareness grew increasingly hazy, gradually sinking into darkness.
The next instant—
"Ha—huff!!!"
It was like someone gasping for air after nearly suffocating from lack of oxygen, breathing heavily upon regaining it.
It could also be described as waking from a nightmare, her panting somewhat erratic.
"Sister, sister!"
Someone was calling her—Randgriz, standing before her, shouting.
Though it seemed loud, Brunhilde heard it faintly, as if her hearing had dulled.
Moreover, Randgriz's figure occasionally appeared to split into two, then overlap again, as if her vision had also faltered.
Yet this phenomenon lasted only a few seconds before gradually returning to normal.
"I'm fine."
With these words, Brunhilde steadied herself and looked ahead.
The First Emperor had already departed from her sight, returning to his throne.
"You may leave now."
The emperor on the throne spoke thus, and then all fell silent.
The next moment, a ripple surged, and the surrounding scenery shifted to a new setting.
Though a new scene, it was still the grand hall of the court—the outer hall.
They had been sent back to the outside world, where they could sense the Akashic System.
After one last glance at the hall, Brunhilde chose to return to the Akashic Realm.
"Sister Brunhilde, sister Randgriz!"
A youthful voice, relieved and joyful, rang out.
"Göll."
Randgriz cast a gentle gaze at her youngest sister and opened her arms to embrace the girl as she rushed over.
"Sister Brunhilde~"
After hugging the kind sister, Göll turned to leap toward the other.
However—
"Randgriz, after the divine weapon was forged just now, what did I become?"
As she spoke, Brunhilde reached out and grabbed Göll's face mid-leap, tossing her aside, earning a deeply resentful glare.
"Huh? Wait, sister Brunhilde, what divine weapon forging?"
Göll stammered in shock, then immediately covered her mouth, as if she had spoken too loudly, wary of other gods overhearing.
After all, the matter of the Valkyries transforming into divine weapons was known only among their sisterhood.
So, sister Brunhilde said she had just undergone divine weapon forging?
Wasn't that only possible by summoning a human to reality?
And whose divine weapon had Brunhilde sister become?
The First Emperor's?
"Huh?"
Randgriz seemed momentarily stumped by the question, unsure how to answer.
Did her sister not know her own state?
"I... I don't know."
"You don't know?"
Brunhilde raised an eyebrow.
"Because you were completely enveloped in light—so blinding I couldn't see anything. When the light faded, you reappeared as you are now."
The one who spoke these words was Randgriz, her face full of apology for being completely useless in this situation.
"There's no need to make such an expression, Randgriz."
Brunhilde gently stroked her younger sister's cheek. No one could have anticipated this unexpected turn of events.
Then, she slightly furrowed her brow. The Ragnarök battle was about to begin—she could already hear the clamor of spectators taking their seats in the arena.
There was no time left for further observations across time and history. Truly, there wasn't enough time.
Yet merely watching through a screen, such a flat image, might cause them to overlook some crucial information.
Only by immersing herself in that era could she notice more.
And now, having discovered these few extraordinary individuals—each practically a trump card—should she play one in the very first match?
Moreover, there was no guarantee they would even be willing.
A king's pride would likely demand they appear in a climactic match, not the opening one.
What a headache. What should she do?
Right now, she needed to immediately select someone for the first battle.
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