Chapter 775: Home of a Primordial God
Vlad’s eyes sharpened as he watched the Lord of War vanish into the distance. Only after the man’s overwhelming presence faded did he allow his mind to finally relax. He lowered his gaze to his body, examining himself with the full awareness of someone attuned to both matter and soul.
Every cell and every strand of spiritual essence that made up his being had not only been restored to peak condition, but enhanced far beyond their previous limits.
"Not only has my Level risen... even my innate talent has evolved. Incredible., the power of a Primordial God is truly beyond measure."
That thought crossed the mind of the True Depravita of Wrath, a rare sense of awe flickering within him. But that awe quickly gave way to something warmer, deeper. A gentle hand took his own, grounding him. He turned to find Freya, her radiant eyes locked on his, filled with kindness, pride, and unshakable love.
The Depravita of Wrath, often consumed by rage just a few minutes ago during his battle, couldn’t help but return her gaze with a rare, genuine smile. In that moment, his usual fury gave way to serenity. The trials they had endured, the countless battles and wounds—they had survived them all. And now, at last, they were safe.
The atmosphere around them grew still. Silence blanketed the crowd of Vikings, none daring to disturb the quiet moment shared between two warriors who had fought, suffered, and ultimately triumphed together.
Only after a full minute passed did the silence break. The sound of footsteps echoed across the field. All eyes turned toward the approaching figure of the Valhallan Empress.
The moment her presence was felt, every Viking dropped to one knee in deep reverence. Even Freya, though she had severed her formal ties to the realm, bowed respectfully before the matriarch of Valhalla.
But Vlad did not move.
The True Depravita of Wrath stood firm, his gaze unwavering as he stared directly at the Empress. His eyes were not filled with open hostility, but with cool, unyielding judgment. There was a restrained coldness in them—a reminder that while the Empress had helped them in the final moments, her actions—or rather, her inaction—had nearly doomed them.
She had allowed Freya to be condemned as a criminal. She had stood by while the fraudulent Tournament of Destiny continued unchecked. And even when the Lord of War first appeared, she only acted due to the White Death’s threat. In the final confrontation, she waited until the people rose up in defiance before making her stance clear.
To Vlad, that kind of leadership was not true leadership at all.