Two perfectly carved golem guards in glorious shape greeted them at the entrance. His height was four times that of the Jotun who was with them, around 16 meters. The entry point doors turned out to be three, one made of wood, one of laminated steel bars and the last one made of pure and unknown metal. Golems, compared to gates, were like a teenager next to an adult.

"If you just marveled at this, just wait until you witness the main fortress," Donsuk whispered to her with a pride that didn't belong to him.

The grand gatekeepers ignored them, staying frozen in their places.

The main street turned out to be full of people, buying and selling stalls, floats and patrols of humans, or so it seemed. The houses from two stories onwards had a medieval and gothic style of architecture, so interspersed that they blended imperfectly with each other.

A system message had been beeping ever since she stepped out of the snowmen's dungeon portal, and all this time I ignored her. His uncle was a priority, as was escaping, running and observing the strangeness that surrounded him. But now he had a chance, even among so many unknown faces.

The deity "Typhon" feels his mouth watering for what he is about to witness.

The "Daunted Warrior" deity rubs his hands together in excitement and anxiety.

(Let's just burn time.)

The blue screen displayed the following message:

Congratulations on being chosen as the incarnation of a deity.

Currently his level is 67. He has 201 points to add to his starting stats according to his physique and intellect.

(The only thing missing to make this wild world full of monsters and superhumans that we used to call humanity look like a game.)

It was not a simple rumor that only incarnations were able to aspire to this advantage, that of obtaining points to be added, according to his level, to excel even more. As if being the herald of a god, gaining powers from him, was not enough.

There was strength, agility, intelligence, luck and perception. He would have chosen to improve strength, but the titans already had great strength. Same with two more. But he could not waste points without knowing what preference his patron deity had, since there were those who specialized in war, medicine, magic, etc.

Strength: 27

Agility: 32

luck: 3

Intelligence: 18

Perception: 26

(My fucking luck explains a lot), he thought to himself both disappointed and relieved.

He made a mental note to investigate Typhon further, either by history or by consulting directly.

The deity "Cowardly Warrior" loudly protests the postponement of the power up.

The deity "Typhon" advises that he is too busy.

(I don't think they would be able to joke either.)

The deity "Typhon" glares at you emphasizing that he is capable of many things.

(I suppose his own thoughts are not a limit for sponsors.)

The deity "Typhon" advises that you invest the points in intelligence, perception and strength.

(And here's the clue. From what I vaguely know, Typhon was the titan of monsters, created with the motive of pure revenge. And the first two skills have a direct relationship. It would be too broken if he has the ability to summon or create beasts and/or monsters.)

A part of him inside was trying to keep him from rushing into a huge inconsistency and the other part was urging him to be strong for once. He was in a world he didn't know firsthand, depending on an incarnation he barely knew and an ice Jotun carrying his uncle in his arms. He almost died in the last few dungeons, the first due to weakness and the second due to poor luck. And if he really was a catastrophic incarnation, the danger of extermination by the hunting associations was certainly imminent.

(I don't want to be weak anymore, not anymore.)

A hand went up. And the blank spots began to shrink.

A few minutes later, still walking on the vast cobbled streets, they saw in the distance a white fortress surrounded by high walls. Birds, Valkyries and other mounted beings came and went in the air, frequenting the defense infrastructure more. Strangely, when the space narrowed considerably between the two points, they did not find a door to stand in their way, for these were already open and a woman was waiting for them at the head of a dozen heavily armored men with faces that were hidden and hidden. in the thick shadows of their hooves.

"Lynir, son of Baltz. Donsuk, son of Charles. And Hansung, son of Jong Sung," the dark-haired, stoic-faced hostess wearing noble clothes introduced herself.

"Freyj, it's nice to see you again, and not like stepmother," replied Donsuk.

It seemed that Donsuk had the undeniable habit of transmitting what his deity kindly imposed on him.

"Charles would have laughed at your words, but I didn't. These times are no longer like before. The good, who rushes to brand us as the evil of the worlds, has the relentless intention of murdering all of us Ragnarok incarnations.

Or maybe not.

"Um, excuse me, did you say 'Ragnarok'? I'm kinda~ out of context," Hansung interjected with a frown.

"Humans are animals no matter what, but not liking that definition, we created the word 'humans'. We'd better go inside; the rest of the Ragnarok Alliance are waiting for us inside."