Leisurely, joyous times always came to an end.
The tremor rising from the depths of eternal night came without warning.
It was as violent as if a giant had viciously kicked the spine of the entire world.
The expression on Ragnar Lodbrok's bearded face, flushed red from losing at cards, instantly froze.
His fingers tightened reflexively around the Draconic Cards.
The exquisitely crafted, exorbitantly priced cards actually let out a strained groan beneath his brute strength.
He abruptly raised his head, his blazing gaze piercing through the translucent energy shield stretched above the deck of the Winter God.
It finally settled upon the north, where an even deeper darkness churned.
The wind and snow there were no longer dancing ice crystals.
They had been stirred by some invisible, immense force into a frenzied vortex brimming with malice.
Countless dark-purple arcs of lightning flashed within it, carrying an ominous air.
Each flash briefly traced enormous outlines so vast they were suffocating.
"Clang!"
Ragnar viciously smashed the crumpled cards in his hand onto the thick snow-bear-hide card table.
The mead cups bounced in response.
"Those damned bastards have finally sent something worthwhile!"
The pent-up frustration in his voice was replaced by Battle Intent that bordered on ecstasy.
His large hand seized the handle of the giant axe Bloodhowl, which was deeply embedded in the deck.
The dark-red bloodlight along its blade abruptly blazed like the eyes of a ferocious beast roused from slumber, issuing a deep hum.
The lazy smile on Zong Shen's face faded slightly.
It was replaced by a calm stillness.
After more than half a month of spending time together, he had long since figured out Ragnar's temperament.
This guy loved showing off, and his intelligence was below average.
He had a few minor schemes, but that was all.