Chapter 1042: Chapter 63: Pseudo-God (2)
"Then survive, after all, he’s a lord. I can’t just say kill him outright," Ragnar filled a glass of wine and continued, "But will your friend forgive him? Ten years ago, he was the only one who came back alive. Will his anger be appeased?"
The voice was light, yet fell like a heavy hammer, and in an instant everything seemed to have a reasonable explanation.
Ragnar couldn’t influence Ingwig’s personnel selection, he couldn’t actively appoint Bola to participate in this action... meaning, he just exploited this situation, which hardly counts as exploitation; Ragnar merely spoke of what might happen in the future.
"Your mind is too meticulous, not like a Viking."
Lorenzo didn’t know whether to admire or to fear.
"As a king, it’s a required course, Mr. Holmes."
Ragnar leaned against the side, drinking.
"No matter if it’s Froki or the Apocalypse Society, your upcoming actions will be overly entangled with interfering factors, you’ll eventually have to make decisions. As for information about Ice Bay, that’s about it... but I’m genuinely curious, what’s at the end of the Silent Sea, is it really the dwelling of the Gods?"
"I don’t know, but it’s probably not anything good, otherwise it wouldn’t be confined to this cold end, would it?" Lorenzo replied.
"Indeed, let’s call it a day, Mr. Holmes. For anything next, leave it to Hebdo."
Ragnar put down his wine glass, then walked towards the tavern door.
"As a king, there are many things waiting for me."
...
Inside the tavern, only Lorenzo and Hebdo remained. Lorenzo wasn’t sure if it could be considered a pleasant meeting; Ragnar brought information about the Apocalypse Society but also potential danger.
Froki and the Apocalypse Society.
Before setting out for Ice Bay, Lorenzo felt pressure, let alone the upcoming journey to the Silent Sea.
"How is our king?"
Hebdo took a deep breath; it was natural to feel oppressed when dealing with a king.
"Alert, unlike a Viking. I think he’d get along well with Arthur and the others." Lorenzo said.
"What do you think a Viking should be like? Rude, reckless, offering up life to Odin like a fool?" Hebdo chuckled, "Well, most Vikings indeed are like that."
"His Majesty is very adept at exploiting others’ impressions of Vikings. Once he besieged a position for a long time to no avail, then decided to duel to the death; if he won, the other side would surrender, if he died, we would retreat."
"And the result?"
"Result? Indeed, he started a duel to the death, but his dagger was poisoned, easily killing the opponent."
Hebdo noted Lorenzo’s slightly shocked expression.
"Glory is for the dead; true rulers need only results."
"This external war is just the beginning. For the sake of interests, lords will scramble to dispatch troops, but wars are not so easily won; they’ll be dragged into a vortex, continuously depleting their powers, even if victorious, they’ll be exhausted, heralding the unification of Viking nations.
Lords will die one after another until only the king remains."
"Seems the civil war within Viking nations has never ceased."
Lorenzo was in awe of such bloodthirsty thoughts and went to the barrel to fill both his and Hebdo’s cup.
"Of course, never ceased, but these have nothing to do with us, we only need to focus on actions in the Silent Sea, these topics are for later."
Hebdo stood up and took the handed wine cup, clinking lightly with Lorenzo’s cup.
"But you seem very worried, Lorenzo, are you afraid of something?"
He could see the emotions hidden beneath Lorenzo’s eyes, ripples in the gray-blue pupils. Lorenzo shook his head, telling Hebdo not to worry.
"Nothing, just contemplating some things, some very complex matters." Lorenzo resumed the earlier conversation, "What is the original appearance of mythology?"
"Hebdo, if according to his thoughts, does it mean that long ago, someone called Odin did many things, these things were recorded and sung, until they were distorted into the mythology we now understand."
His voice became light, like an ethereal echo.
Hebdo’s expression froze; having worshipped Odin since childhood, even now it was hard to escape the shackles of belief to consider certain matters.
"I don’t know, but it sounds... unbelievable."
"Nothing’s unbelievable, haven’t you realized yet?"
Lorenzo slowly stepped back, standing not far from Hebdo, he slowly spread his arms.
"Hebdo, right before you stands a ’Pseudo-God.’
Blinding flame rose in Lorenzo’s hands, not only that, upon the awakening of Secret Blood, his eyes also became blindingly white, stern, dense scale armor covered his neck, reflecting the radiance.
Nameless majesty was thus released, seemingly countless invisible hands clasped Hebdo, prompting awe and fear.
The light was dazzling, like a descending God.
"Look at me, Hebdo, think, if many years ago, here on this frozen, harsh land, a Viking whose cognition was limited to this land saw an existence like mine, what would he think?"
Lorenzo stared at the purifying flame in his hand, the firelight capturing all attention.
"Would he think I’m human, or see me as a God?"
His heart pounded intensely, Hebdo couldn’t speak, struggling to breathe.
"One must know human cognition has limits, like today’s iron-clad ships and cannons; if they appeared hundreds of years ago, people then would likely tremble in worship, seeing them as servants of God, adorned with sacred terms.
But we know clearly these things aren’t divine, merely cold steel, products of burning industry."
Hebdo nodded stiffly, understanding Lorenzo’s point, shocked by such blasphemous information. When divinity’s erased, only harsh reality remains.
"One must know, demons’ existence greatly exceeds our imagination, far beyond our historical cognitive limits."
Silencer, World’s End, demon, erosion, Ascension...
Words bounced in mind, Lorenzo closed his eyes, and at that moment, the flame extinguished. When he reopened them, he returned to a normal person, bearing a smile terrifying to Hebdo.
Lorenzo smiled, a genuinely heartfelt smile, one Hebdo couldn’t fathom, wondering why Lorenzo could freely show such a smile, didn’t he realize what he just said? If according to his example...
Then what is Odin? What is the so-called Heroic Spirit Hall?
Are they Gods or demons?
Is the sanctum Vikings yearn for after death truly a lie?
[Battling, dying, waking at dawn, thrown back into this cycle.]
[This isn’t Heroic Spirit Hall, it’s true Hell.]
Ivar’s voice echoed in Hebdo’s mind, further shattering his understanding, he slowly sat back on his chair, wrist slightly trembling, taking a big gulp of wine to numb his nerves with alcohol.
"Don’t be nervous, Hebdo, if such deductions are correct, then no ’God’ truly exists, even if anything crowned as ’God’ exists, if it bleeds, it can be killed."
Lorenzo sat down too, genuinely joyful, raising his cup, clinked with Hebdo’s again.
Unfortunately, he was stuck in Viking nations, otherwise he’d love to discuss these new speculations with Merlin; as reason advances, ignorant sanctity retreats until it’s cornered.
"Odin..."
Lorenzo murmured, envisioning the God’s form.
Cloaked, armored in silver-white, clutching a cold spear, walking amid snowy wastelands.
"Perhaps, the Pioneer truly is immortal."
