141 The Hall of Heroes—Valhalla

Arkhan and Artoria walked through this forgotten divine land, heading toward the direction of Bifrost.

The cataclysmic Ragnarok had left behind remnants of divine power on this land. Although most of it had dwindled over the ages, the remaining traces were enough to pose a challenge.

Arkhan had to rely on Rune to detect magical reactions around them while cautiously leading Artoria forward. He couldn't afford to be careless.

After walking for about two or three hours, a palace suddenly appeared before them.

It was the grandest palace Arkhan had ever seen, comparable in size to a city. Every wall was constructed with shining spears, and the roof was made of golden shields. The palace had hundreds of large gates, each wide enough to accommodate eight hundred warriors side by side. Above the main gate were two statues—a boar's head and an eagle with gemstone eyes.

"Spears for walls, shields for the roof, armor for seats, five hundred and forty gates, each capable of accommodating eight hundred warriors marching in and out side by side. The boar's head symbolizes battle, and the eagle's sharp gaze surveys the nine realms..."

Artoria murmured in a low voice, her azure eyes filled with unhidden awe.

"This is... the legendary Hall of Heroes—Valhalla."

According to Norse mythology, Odin sent his warrior maidens, the Valkyries, to select brave and skilled warriors from the mortal realm and bring these warriors' souls to Valhalla by riding on white-winged steeds. These warriors were then known as Einherjar.

During the day, these warriors engaged in combat training face to face, and at night, they feasted and celebrated as if untouched by harm. When Ragnarok arrived, they donned their armor, wielded their weapons, and streamed out of the five hundred and forty gates of Valhalla to battle for the gods.

Arkhan exhaled slowly. Although he knew that he might encounter Valhalla on this journey, he hadn't expected the descriptions from myth to be entirely true.

Building a palace with so many weapons seemed overly extravagant!

'Odin must be out of his mind!' Arkhan thought speechlessly, gazing at the spears and golden shields, his face involuntarily showing a pained expression.

If all these weapons were given to him, he could easily increase Camelot's military strength five or sixfold!

Unfortunately, Valhalla before them was already a scene of complete destruction. About two-thirds of it had been obliterated, and the spears and shields had long since become rusty and dilapidated in the river of time.

The exterior was in such a state that the armor draped over the chairs inside probably didn't fare any better.

'It's a damn shame... Damn Odin, you extravagant old man!' Arkhan couldn't help but let out curses inside his mind.

"Bifrost is just behind Valhalla." Nidhogg said. "Just walk straight through, and you'll get there."

Arkhan took a deep breath, suppressing his resentment, and led Artoria into Valhalla.

Inside Valhalla was similarly desolate and shattered. Ruins, broken walls, scattered stones, and light seeping through the broken roof created an atmosphere of almost suffocating silence, interrupted only by their footsteps and breathing.

The ground was covered with a large amount of rubble, occasionally revealing items such as goblets, armor, swords, and chairs, prompting images of the Einherjar fighting during the day and reveling at night to involuntarily surface in their minds.

Unfortunately, all of that was now just a distant memory.

"Teacher, look at that."

Artoria seemed to have noticed something, pointing ahead.

Following her gaze, Arkhan discovered a relatively intact wall not far away, adorned with vivid colors—a mural.

Both walked up, and Arkhan used a magecraft to conjure a light sphere to illuminate the surroundings. He then looked up at the content of the mural.

The first thing that caught their eyes was an elderly man with a white beard and a single eye, wearing a hawk helmet, golden armor, wielding a long spear, adorned with wrist rings, accompanied by two fierce wolves at his feet, and two ravens perched on his shoulders. He sat high on a throne, the remaining eye revealing an indescribable depth as if seeing to the end of the world.

With such iconic features, almost anyone could recognize the identity of this old man in an instant.

The mighty god Odin!

To be honest, this painting really captured Odin well, at least with a third of his divine aura. It made Arkhan feel a bit uneasy when he first laid eyes on it. After all, he had just cursed Odin in his mind a moment ago.

Arkhan's gaze then moved down, revealing depictions of other gods on the mural. Elves, Dwarves, Humans, Giants, and more.

The mural portrayed a forgotten era.

Gods ruling high in the sky, overseeing the mortal realm, commanding the heavens and earth.

Graceful Elves were regarded as friends by the gods, aiding them in managing the world together.

Stout Dwarves, tirelessly worked in mines, using their superb craftsmanship to create countless wonders, even forging weapons for the gods.

Humans living on the prosperous earth, despite frequent attacks from the Giants, their lives remained abundant and stable under the protection of the gods.

"This is... the Norse Realms before Ragnarok happened..." Artoria whispered softly.

Arkhan remained silent, a complex expression crossing his eyes. In a place like this, seeing such a mural was a profound irony.

Unexplainably, a thought flashed in his mind—if Britain were to become like this in the future...

'No! I absolutely won't let that happen!'

Arkhan clenched his fists tightly, determination shining in his deep-black eyes. He now had a real family and friends, unlike his previous life where his life was bleak and always alone from infancy to maturity. He would definitely protect his homeland.

Meanwhile, Artoria seemed somewhat fascinated as she walked forward to gently touch the mural with her hand.

"Eh...?"

She looked at the paint on her fingers, blinking in confusion, as if several question marks appeared on her forehead.

"Was this mural done just now? It's still wet..."

*Whoosh—!*

A chilling and sharp killing intent suddenly struck, a slender figure darting out of the darkness like lightning, a gleaming spear thrusting straight towards Artoria's head.

*Clatter!*

Golden chains emerged out of nowhere, tightly binding the attacker in an instant. The attacker felt the power within them dissipate, weakly releasing the spear, which clattered to the ground.

When Arkhan saw the attacker's face, he paused slightly.

"A Valkyrie?"