Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 758: Facing a Legendary Viking

"FREYA! FREYA! FREYA! FREYA! FREYA!"

The deafening roar of the crowd in the Arena of Gods echoed with such force that it seemed as if the very heavens might collapse. Just as Octavio was about to act, his intentions dissolved under the sheer might of the Viking masses’ thunderous cheers.

His eyes widened in shock as he watched the raw excitement surge through the countless warriors, a sea of battle-hardened souls shouting Freya’s name with unyielding fervor. Though everyone knew the tournament’s fairness was more illusion than reality, there was still a mantle of justice—however thin—cloaking the event.

Octavio knew this too well. If he dared to seize Freya’s treasures, any semblance of fairness would crumble, and that could spark a revolt—a risk he was unwilling to take. His teeth clenched so tightly that it seemed his jaw might shatter. The earl’s rage boiled inside him like molten iron, yet he forced himself to sit back in his seat, hatred smoldering in his gaze as it locked onto Freya.

But Octavio wasn’t a man to sit idle. Almost immediately, he reached out with his soul, a blazing fury igniting in his heart. He sent word to his loyal men, determined to uncover who had dared to provide such powerful treasures to a woman he viewed as a criminal. His pride would not allow such an affront to go unpunished.

Freya, in turn, met Octavio’s stare with a radiant smile, her expression calm and untouchable. She slowly turned away, her posture steady and her steps measured, leaving the arena behind her. Alone once again, Freya took a moment to gaze at the armor she wore. A tender, almost childlike smile softened her features as the image of a small yellow cat appeared in her mind.

The armor pulsed with the energy signature of Jormungandr, and its power was extraordinary. A true Legendary artifact—unlike typical gear that drained the user’s energy pool, this armor worked by harnessing the Laws of Life and the power of Gluttony. It absorbed energy from the environment, feeding off the sunlight and the ambient life force around her. It didn’t just empower the armor—it fueled Freya herself, amplifying her strength and resilience.

Such an artifact had to be unimaginably expensive, yet here it was, gifted to her, a symbol of the silent support she had beyond the arena walls. The thought warmed her heart—friends and allies were watching, rooting for her, even in the shadows.

Her gaze shifted to the dark mace she held in her hands. The weapon felt heavy, not just in weight but in presence. Forged from the remnants of entities above the Legendary Rank, it radiated an ominous power. Yet, there was a hidden force within it—something untapped, waiting to be unleashed. Freya’s lips curled in anticipation. She would reveal that hidden strength in the second phase of the tournament.

Less than five minutes after Freya exited the arena, the remains of Godrick were cleared, and a new battle commenced. Wave after wave of Viking warriors took to the field, clashing with raw power and unshakable determination. Each sought to prove themselves worthy, to claim their place among the legends. The tournament was not just a contest—it was a battleground for destiny itself.

Not all who fought were like Godrick, twisted souls seeking to control Freya for their own desires. Many came with a true sense of justice, warriors driven by honor and a desire to right the wrongs they saw. The Viking race had always held honor above all else, their culture steeped in the code of the righteous warrior.

Most battles ended with fighters unconscious or surrendering—few sought true death unless the grudge was deeply personal. Even the wicked among them understood the price of slaying a Sage; the family and comrades of the fallen would not simply let such a crime pass unavenged.

Freya, however, was different. While she showed some leniency to Vikings she deemed misguided but righteous, she held no mercy for the wicked. When faced with those who were corrupt, lust-driven, and treacherous, she struck them down without hesitation—pure, unrelenting destruction. With each kill, the crowd roared louder, their cheers growing into a wild, unbridled frenzy.

For the Vikings, nothing was purer, nothing more righteous than a warrior who defended their honor and pride through fist and steel. In their eyes, Freya had every right to slay those who saw her as an object to be controlled.

The first phase of the tournament lasted over a month, with more than thirty fights taking place each day. Many warriors rose and fell—some left broken and bloodied, others unconscious or dead, while some surrendered before facing certain defeat. When the dust finally settled, only ten remained standing.

Among them, of course, was Freya. She had triumphed in every battle, her strength unshakable, her spirit unbroken. Her victory wasn’t just luck—it was the result of her evolution in the Sacred Hunting Grounds prior to this ordeal. Her Totems had grown stronger, her Bloodline had evolved, and her life level had ascended to the Legendary tier. freewebnσvel.cøm

After a single day of rest, the second phase of the Tournament of Destiny began.

The stands were packed once more, the air thick with anticipation. This time, the number of people on the podiums had increased, filled with powerful figures who hadn’t bothered to watch the Sage battles. But now, with Legendary warriors entering the fray, they were eager to see what would unfold.

Though some of the powerhouses held mixed feelings about Freya’s treatment, they could not resist the allure of the upcoming battles. Freya’s display of raw power in the first phase had earned their respect, and now they waited, eager to see how she would face the new challenges ahead.

The first battle of the second phase pitted Freya against a massive Viking named Alrock. Towering above her, his body was clad in thick bone armor, making him look like a living fortress. In each hand, he wielded a shield with razor-sharp edges, an imposing presence of steel and bone.

Alrock’s gaze was firm, his eyes brimming with power as he studied Freya. His voice was calm, yet it carried an undeniable weight of authority.

"You should give up," he said. "I don’t wish to harm you. Know your limits."

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