Everyone in Birka, young and old, men and women alike, had gathered in an open clearing.
A makeshift platform stood before them.
They all trembled as they stared anxiously at the people standing on it.
Just moments earlier, they had witnessed the handsome young man standing in the center demolish a mountain several kilometers away with a single punch.
He had done it so casually, as though it were nothing worth mentioning.
Not only that, but he had also subdued everyone who had dared stir up trouble amid the chaos, whether ordinary citizens, slaves, or followers of the former God.
After that, no one dared cause any more trouble.
They all stood obediently in place, awaiting their fate.
More precisely, the fate of all Birka.
Randall stood on the platform, his calm gaze sweeping over the crowd below and placing immense pressure on them.
And that was all he needed to do.
The Black Mountain King handled everything else.
Simply put, Randall was there for two reasons: to let the people of Birka meet their new supreme leader, and to keep everyone in line.
Standing beside Randall, the Black Mountain King was drenched in cold sweat.
Even now, he could not stop trembling when he recalled that seemingly world-shattering punch.
He had thought he had already overestimated Randall's strength, but it turned out he had still underestimated him.
A thought could not help rising in his mind. Could this man really be a god?
How could a human possess the power to shatter mountains?!
After casting a reverent glance at Randall, the Black Mountain King stepped forward and began explaining what had happened and how things would work from now on.
In short, the old order was gone.
As the Black Mountain King spoke at length, the expressions of those