Chapter 255: Humanity's Representative: Both the King of Humans and a Chief God?
The eight-legged steed was none other than Odin's mount—Sleipnir.
Yet, its master was not upon its back, and its whinny was filled with sorrow.
It was galloping down the Rainbow Bridge toward the land of the dead.
Upon closer inspection, the moment the Rainbow Bridge touched the ground, its beautiful colors were instantly corroded by the hue of death, and half of it turned black in an instant.
As Sleipnir stepped onto it, its body began to smoke as if scorched.
In the blink of an eye, it was enveloped in shadowy flames, its snow-white form darkening.
This was suicide!
Was it following its master in death?
Wait!
Heimdall said the god representing the divine side was the one who proposed the "Final Law of War Between Humans and Gods"—?
Wasn't that Odin, the chief god of Norse mythology?
Most gods and humans were bewildered. Wouldn't Odin's participation be tantamount to throwing his life away?
How could he fight, paralyzed and barely able to move as he sat in his chair?
Yet, the chief gods who knew some details were also stunned, for they had learned that Odin was already dead.
A dead god as the representative?
Could it be that Odin would fight in his spiritual form?
Would he be more powerful in death than in life?
"Could it be—!"
A few chief gods immediately understood.
So that was it—much like the humans.
Just as the human representatives were summoned from history, this time, Odin would also be summoned from the past.
After all, Odin had not died in Ragnarök, so he could be revived through summoning.
Once summoned, he would return in his most perfect state.
In that case, there was no need for Odin to suffer in the first place. He might as well have died outright and been resurrected through the Akashic System.
But it wasn't that simple!
Gods couldn't be casually summoned back to life after death.
Unless under special circumstances, once a god died, they remained eternally dormant.
Yet, this was precisely such a special circumstance, allowing for such an act.
However, even if Odin were summoned back and emerged victorious, after Ragnarök concluded, he would have to return to history.
"Tch!"
Brunhilde clicked her tongue in displeasure—it was exactly the outcome she had suspected.
So, she wasn't particularly surprised.
As for summoning Odin through the Akashic System, it wasn't her doing. Her authority only extended to summoning humans.
The summoning of gods required the authorization of several chief gods, carried out by Heimdall.
Raising an eyebrow, Brunhilde caught sight of that chief god's figure.
Beneath the Rainbow Bridge, where it connected to the earth, an ominous mist gathered.
The mist writhed and condensed, forming a figure—none other than the chief god of Norse mythology, Odin.
Meanwhile, Sleipnir, now fully descended, had lost its divine, majestic appearance, transforming instead into a ferocious beast—a ghostly steed spreading death.
With another sorrowful whinny, it charged straight toward its master's back. But instead of knocking Odin flying, Sleipnir dissolved into mist and merged into Odin's form.
Then, Odin's appearance underwent a subtle transformation—he now wore robes resembling those of a mage, adorned with various glyphs, which were Rune Glyphs.
It seemed the legend was true: Sleipnir was not actually a living creature but rather the manifestation of a divine artifact.
"What's going on?"
"Is that really Odin?"
"Has he recovered from his injuries?"
"I clearly saw earlier that he was still half-dead."
"How is he participating now?"
"And he doesn't seem like a mere spirit."
As they spoke, some gods began to realize and understand something.
He had been summoned in a manner similar to how humans are summoned.
If that were the case, then there was hope for this round, as Odin was a chief god on the same level as Zeus.
Sure enough, as Heimdall officially announced that Odin would be the representative and shared some information, the gazes of the gods toward Odin filled with respect.
If he had chosen not to participate, he could have fully recovered with proper treatment, though it would have taken some time.
But by participating, he had effectively ended his own life. Regardless of victory or defeat, after the conclusion of the battle of Ragnarök, Odin would completely vanish from the sight of the gods, becoming a figure of history.
Thus, many gods sighed in sorrow.
With Thor's death in battle, Loki's betrayal, and Odin's current state, the decline of the powerful Norse pantheon had become an irreversible fate.
So, who would be the human representative?
The sixth round was the King of Knights, the seventh was the King of Heroes.
The eighth round should also feature a human king.
"Then, who will be the human representative this time?"
The host, Heimdall, glanced at the terminal in his hand, where the human representative would be displayed—and it was—!
"Huh? No, no, is this a mistake?"
He rubbed his eyes—the name on the screen seemed off.
"Brunhilde, did you enter the wrong name?"
He immediately contacted Brunhilde.
"No, it's this name,"
Brunhilde confirmed firmly. In truth, she had only just received this name.
Until now, she hadn't known who the substitute human representative would be, as the mysterious individual had suddenly informed her that a very special being would represent humanity in the eighth round, and she would find out then.
She hadn't expected it to be this extreme.
That God of War, different from Ares, had ended up paving the way for someone else.
"But, this, this—"
Heimdall was utterly confused. This individual was clearly a god, a chief god at that—how could they represent humanity?
Wait, no, hold on. Strange, strange.
Why did his mind now perceive this being as human, as a king of humans?
What was going on? It was as if he couldn't distinguish whether they were human or god—his memories felt jumbled.
Huh? Relevant information was flowing into his mind through the terminal, causing Heimdall to widen his eyes in realization.
So that's how it was!
The other chief gods must have received this information as well—did they approve?
Hmm? Almost all of them agreed!
Then it was settled—this individual would be the human representative!
So, Heimdall took a deep breath.
"The human representative is this one—Rome!"