At the very peak of the wind and snow, the armored deity stood alone on the summit of the mountains, grasping that eternal spear in his hand. His single golden eye silently gazed out at the ravaged world.
Newborn power was fusing into his veins. He had waited over ten thousand years for this moment, starting from slaying that great father, to devouring the power of his brothers, and reclaiming his father's lost flesh and blood. Now, a myriad of years later, he was only a step away from grasping the authority and power of this world.
During the thousands of years he was sealed within Nibelungen, he had watched his former brothers cross the entire world to seek the power left behind by their father. They had constantly undergone cocooning and rebirth, only to be slain by humans; they had conquered new nations and been conquered by new nations in turn, until finally, all of them died, leaving only himself.
Chapter 145