McCleary smoked alone, and through the billowing haze, the old man's face gradually blurred.
Footsteps rang out. He raised his head and looked through the smoke, his gaze landing on Loki's petite figure.
"Finished?" The old man exhaled a puff of smoke.
Loki nodded, grinning and revealing a mouthful of pearly white teeth.
"Our Sacrifice Ritual was fairly simple. Unlike yours, it wasn't so complicated—you had to draw ritual formations and pray."
McCleary nodded. "So, what Divine Grace did you receive?"
"Multiple Illusions." Loki found a chair and sat down.
McCleary gave an "oh." "The Papal Hall has records of this Divine Grace. Apparently, it can create more than ten illusions, each possessing the same abilities as the original."
"But they're illusions. They'll disappear as soon as they suffer even the slightest attack."
Loki nodded. "Yes, that's the one."
McCleary nodded. "It's not a particularly powerful Divine Grace, but considering the quality of the sacrifice, it's acceptable."
Loki laughed. "Old man, speaking like that is very rude to the gods. Be careful they come after you."
McCleary looked unconcerned. "When you reach my age, you'll understand. A lot of things really don't matter anymore."
A whistle rang out, followed by the arrival of Thor and Tyr together.
It was Thor who had whistled. The man who wielded the power of the Norse God of Thunder grinned and said,
"Commander McCleary, you're certainly broad-minded."
McCleary glanced at him. "What Divine Grace did you get?"
Thor shrugged. "Thunder Roar."
McCleary nodded. "A purely offensive Divine Grace. Great power, wide range—not bad."
He then looked at Tyr.
Tyr said expressionlessly, "Infinite Power. Three uses."
A flash of surprise crossed McCleary's eyes. "According to the Papal Hall's records, this Divine Grace allows its wielder to increase his strength without limit."
"Of course, the strength