The solemn and magnificent Valhalla Temple—more than two thousand years ago, it had been the grandest and holiest place in the eyes of the humans of Northern Europe. Their longing and yearning for this place had even surpassed their reverence for Odin. That was because it was the only place where "mortals" could establish a direct connection with the "gods": after death, the bravest and most resolute human warriors became the chosen of the "gods," forged into eternal steel armor within the Valhalla Temple and turned into tireless guards of the holy Asgard. To the humans of that era, this had been the highest honor. It meant they could ascend to the divine altar—even if only as expendable tools.
In fact, no matter the era, this kind of fanatical loyalty had always existed. It was merely more thought-provoking in that savage and brutal Mythical Era, when such blind fanaticism had been even more pronounced.
Yet no matter how sacred and glorious Valhalla had once been, it was now nothing more than a cold, lifeless ruin.
This resplendent palace had survived better than any other building in Asgard. On the surface, it seemed almost completely untouched by the impact of the ancient Ragnarok. Inside, however, it was much the same as anywhere else: empty and covered in dust, with scattered weapons and armor lying everywhere. Walking through its deep, winding corridors, every step felt like stepping into an ancient, frigid tomb.
The corridors of Valhalla's palace rose high overhead, yet they were oppressively stifling. At the tops of the tall walls on either side were metal ceilings that drew together in an almost triangular shape. The slanted alloy roofs pressed down from both sides, giving anyone walking beneath them the illusion of being watched by some mighty authority. Exquisite relief murals