Valhalla had a saying. Even the pot-bellied man passing on the street must have once been a warrior who drank blood on the battlefield, and this drunkard was like that. His face was slammed into the table with his nose crushed and bleeding, but the drunkard raised his head.
His face was stained with blood. Even though it wouldn’t be strange for most people to fall down and groan in pain, the drunkard spat blood with a distorted face.
“Spit. “
“This bastard hit my head first?!”
There was no need for words, the drunk man rushed and tried to knock Chris down, but Chris dodged with just a step and punched him in the abdomen.
Puak!
“Kuak!”
His eyes went wide. The pain must probably be rising from within him, but the man grunted through his teeth and swung his fist at Chris. He definitely had a toughness and determination that exceeded that of ordinary people. He showed his determination to defeat Chris, but what awaited him was just merciless hands.
Pack!
With a hit to the side, he slapped his cheek. He kicked the stumbling drunk right in the stomach, and he looked unsightly as he fell down.
“You bastard.”
“Attack!”
In an instant, everything turned into a mess. The drunken party, which had been watching it while giggling until now, jumped up from their places, realizing the situation was turning serious.
There were three people, and it seemed like each of them was familiar with street fights. The way they swung their fists was quite strong, but with one punch, their world was shaken.
Puak!
Thud!
It was one-sided. The three men fell down before they could do anything, and Chris kicked them in the face as they tried to get up.
Blood splashed. As they lost their consciousness, they couldn’t move or rush at Chris anymore.
Valhalla—there was a way for them to live here. They would sort out a situation through a duel when deciding between right and wrong, but the way they decided victory and defeat was different from that of other nations.
There were three ways. It was either being dead or becoming incapable of fighting. And if that didn’t happen, then the last way would be for them to admit surrender and end the confrontation.
Just bleeding and falling didn’t decide things. The people of Valhalla hated to die shouting surrender, so the drunk could only end it by being unconscious.
It was a pitiful situation. The inn, which had a casual atmosphere until now, had turned into a mess, with people bleeding on the ground and tables broken. Yet the reaction of the owner was calm.
Seeing him accept it as if it were normal, Roman Dmitry got up and placed a gold coin on the table.
“I will pay for this mess in gold coins. And where is the busiest place in Paulo?”
The owner had a bright expression.
“Oh my, thank you. I will guide you to the busiest street in Paulo.”
Even the people of Valhalla were all just humans.
Under the guidance of the owner, Roman Dmitry and his men arrived at the square full of people.
“This is Paulo Square. It is at the center of the city, and it is a place where many come and go since this is the center. Just in case something happens, I will warn you in advance that you shouldn’t make a mess here. I am a person who works for outsiders, so I can ignore most things, but there are always people who act extremely and don’t care about what the people here did to tackle them.”
It was a sincere warning. Covering his face with cloth, the owner hurried out of the square, fearing that others might see him.
Roman Dmitry looked around. The people of Valhalla—they had a peaceful atmosphere.
Unlike other nations, they got along well with each other and solicited customers, while the merchants screamed to sell their products. The problem was that the people in other nations weren’t used to that. The merchants kept their mouths silent when people from other nations would get close, and some even covered their noses and frowned.
Honestly, Paulo wasn’t such a big city. Still, since it was a city close to the border, they came into contact with outsiders more than other cities in Valhalla, but during the festival time, the discrimination was known to be at its peak.
The festival honoring the souls of warriors was a privilege only for the people of Valhalla. However, there were cases where people who showed interest in the event would come to Valhalla to experience their festival, and their behavior didn’t seem so nice to the people of Valhalla.
They were not warriors. Only those who shed blood on the battlefield deserved to enjoy the festival, and outsiders do not get to enjoy it. It was unacceptable for the people of Valhalla. They didn’t want other nations to consume the culture of Valhalla, so it was dangerous to enter Valhalla during the festival time.
Roman walked among them. As people stepped away, each of them would whisper to the party and show how they disliked Roman Dmitry. It was only a matter of seconds before racism turned into violence. The moment even one of those with angry eyes stepped forward, they might resort to violence.
It was a fun nation. Despite being called an empire, it was a nation that hadn’t yet possessed the dignity of an empire. If Kronos couldn’t control their strong greed, then Valhalla didn’t abandon their savagery.
‘The chaos of the Salamander Continent is not a coincidence. Kronos and Valhalla. Since the two major mountain ranges that govern the continent are not fair in their growth, the continent is bound to suffer from violence from time to time. Even though people say Kronos is to blame, Valhalla’s actions are to blame too.’
Halt.
They stopped walking. This trip to Valhalla—it was the starting point of a new time. Before the war started in earnest, Roman Dmitry made his presence known here.
Whisper.
The people’s eyes were focused on the middle of the square. To the gazes of those who showed suspicion towards the people from other nations, Roman Dmitry spoke to them all.
“I am Roman Dmitry, the heir to the Dmitry Duchy! If there are people who want to confront me, come forward!”
The atmosphere changed in an instant. At first, it was simply visible discrimination, yet now the people have shown their hostility towards him.
Opponent: Roman Dmitry. And the rumor was that he was an aura swordsman. Usually, people would get scared, but Valhalla was a different place.
“How dare you mess around in Valhalla? I will deal with you!”
It was a man with a strong physique. His huge body was very similar to that of a mountain, and his scarred face proved that he wasn’t an ordinary person.
Then the people surrounded the man and Roman. The stage for the confrontation had been set before anyone knew it, and even though there was no signal to start, the man rushed at him.
Rumble!
Aura flared, and it looked like the man was an aura swordsman. His strength was not that comparable to Roman Dmitry, but it looked as if he would devour his opponent.
Woong.
He wielded a weapon that was like a huge axe, and as he moved, it looked like he could cut Roman down, but Roman just sidestepped. The sound of the wind being cut was scary to hear.
From the start, the man stepped forward as if to end the fight in an instant, and he pushed fiercely, ignoring his defense and only aiming for the vitals of his opponent. It definitely looked like he was looking down on his opponent.
Even though Roman Dmitry had the advantage, the man seemed to hold a strong power.
However, he picked the wrong opponent. Roman Dmitry simply walked to avoid the attack, and he hit his cheek, making him stagger.
Chak!
His head jerked back. Blood gushed from the man’s face, and drops of blood fell to the ground.
It was quite embarrassing. He was slapped on the cheek even though he swung his weapon, and this made the man grit his teeth in anger.
In Valhalla, disgrace was worse than death. The man’s muscles swelled up as if they were going to burst at any moment, but the weapon he wielded never hit the target. And as earlier…
Chak!
His cheek was slapped. At first, he thought it wasn’t an intentional attack, but this time, in a situation where his cheek was slapped again, he knew Roman Dmitry was looking down on him.
“You jerk!”
His anger exploded, but it was to be expected. It was an act of looking down. In Valhalla, it was the law to treat warriors equally, but this man was mocking him like a child.
His face was messed up. The man charged forward while wielding the axe without caring that he would be slapped again, but there was a limit to the movements that he could make.
Slap.
His head turned as he was still wielding the axe.
Slap.
Again. As he moved forward each time, he tried to attack Roman, but…
Slap.
His legs staggered. The man was losing his mind. The shock blurred his vision, and his fiercely burning will as a warrior was being trampled on in front of everyone.
But strangely, the man wasn’t losing consciousness. Obviously, the shock of being slapped strongly was too much, but no matter how many times the man was hit, he didn’t lose consciousness.
Slap!
Slap! Slap!
In the end, the man was on his knees. He was also a human. Without being able to attack, he kept being hit in the face, and the man had to get out of the situation, so…
“…I surrender.”
Then Roman Dmitry lowered the hand he was about to use to slap him again.
“Aghhhh.”
“I’d rather you die.”
“You bastard who lacks pride! Do not insult Valhalla!”
People booed the man. The three options. Among them, the fact that he chose to surrender made them change from cheering to shaming him. And as a man, it was embarrassing.
However, only the person who was hit knows. The mind-bending shock was so unfamiliar that he had never experienced it on the battlefield.
“Get lost. I will show the will of Valhalla.”
He was a different man. Unlike the previous man, he was a man with a lean body, but the scar on his face showed just how stubborn the guy was.
He knew he couldn’t win against Roman Dmitry. The aura swordsman who defeated Gustavo wasn’t someone a normal warrior could get close to.
However, surrendering was another matter. Even if he gets defeated, he intends to lose with honor. And such thoughts made him regain consciousness as he got slapped on the cheek.
Slap.
As his dagger attack was dodged, Roman slapped his cheek. As his head turned, the man briefly saw heaven.
‘… This is mad.’
It was a stinging pain that made him lose his vision. He staggered and tried to shout his surrender without realizing it, but he managed to stay silent, remembering how he had booed the guy before.
And he regretted it later. He seemed to understand why the man before him shouted surrender, but he didn’t want to show a humiliating side.
‘This is what I have decided.’
He gave up defending and rushed forward. Rather, he decided to get hit properly and faint. Then it would at least be an honorable defeat. However…
Slap.
Slap, slap.
No matter how much he got hit, he wasn’t fainting. Roman Dmitry slapped him again and let mana flow into the man’s cheek for him to realize how painful it was, but at the same time, he wouldn’t lose consciousness from the shock.
It was quite a flustering situation to be in. Thinking that the impact on his cheek would last until he shouted surrender, the man finally decided.
‘There is no other way.’
Slap.
His head turned. With his legs staggering, the man collapsed, and then it looked like he fainted from the shock. He closed his eyes tightly. For the man who passed out after fighting to the end, even if he were defeated, people would applaud.
Above the darkness, he could hear Roman’s voice.
“Get up. You haven’t fainted yet.”
Clench.
“Kuak!”
As his feet pressed against his vital points, the man got up, screaming. At the thought of his intentions being revealed, the guy’s face turned red in shame. He only knew it then.
‘This bastard, was he…’
Roman Dmitry.
From the start, he intended to trample on the pride of Valhalla.
