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Walking along the war-torn path of Vanaheim's battlefield, Rowe kept his head bowed in silent reflection.
The act of using holy light to rapidly slaughter low-tier demonic entities had proven too reckless. He recalled how, because of this method, Zatanos had struck him twice in their last encounter. Now, he had faced an even more formidable foe — a Greater Earth Demon — and who knew what lay ahead.
Worse, had he not chosen to confront the Earth Demon directly, the rest of his team might have safely retreated. But his decision to draw the demon's attention had led to the deaths of three comrades.
No more reckless charges.
No more treating the battlefield like a stage for holy magic.
The fighting had ceased. The demonic forces had retreated. In the Asgardian-Vanir alliance camp, the weary soldiers finally rested.
"Captain!" his unit called out, gathering around him.
Rowe counted them quietly — twelve in total. Three were missing. The three lost during the clash with the Earth Demon.
His expression darkened.
He stood in silence before finally speaking — voice calm but heavy:
"You all did well. Rest. Recover."
With a faint nod, he turned and walked away, hiding the tremble in his bruised hand beneath his cloak.
"What's wrong with the Captain?" one soldier asked.
"We won, didn't we? The enemy fell back, and the greater demon was stalled long enough for our flank to regroup. Why does he seem so… disappointed?"
Arroyo crossed his arms.
"You're forgetting — most of the credit belongs to Captain Rowe. When we faced the Earth Demon, none of us could even scratch it. His holy energy brought it to its knees."
Another soldier added:
"But if he hadn't charged in, maybe those three wouldn't have died…"
Arroyo cut in, firm:
"If anyone else had led us — like the last captain — we would've lost more than three. Maybe all of us."
"Arroyo, you admire him too much."
"No. I just recognize a warrior worthy of respect."
He turned to Elito.
"What about you?"
Elito nodded.
"He's right."
Haldo smirked.
"Didn't you doubt him at first? Changed your mind after he fought the Greater Demon?"
"No," Elito said, walking away. "I changed my mind just now."
Back in his chambers, Rowe returned quietly.
Koishi Lut — his tiny earth-spirit companion — waved excitedly while chewing on a chunk of stone. But when he saw Rowe's battered form, he froze mid-chew.
Rowe lay down, eyes closed, letting divine mana flow through him in silence.
Koishi lowered his crunching volume, thinking he'd fallen asleep.
A few minutes later, Rowe reached over and twisted the little creature's head gently, smirking. Then, sitting up, he began the healing process.
Radiant golden energy pulsed from his palms, repairing bruises and muscle damage.
Once healed, he opened his system rewards:
Vengeance Rewards:
— Standard Spatial Grid
— Hammer of Justice (Shard)
— Sacrificial Aura (Shard)
— …and others.
Mostly low-tier spell fragments — as expected.
No fragment of Divine Shield, the only spell capable of breaking tier restrictions. Still, even small gains like Flash of Light and Blessing of Kings were useful.
This battle marked 51 completed vengeance instances.
49 more to go before unlocking a third-tier divine spell.
But the real treasure?
The severed arm of the Greater Earth Demon.
Demons of that level rivaled second-tier divine wielders. Their remains — like dragons or frost giants — were priceless.
Recently, Rowe had learned to craft Demon Statues.
He drained the blood from the arm and began preservation. Then, at the crafting altar, he poured the demon blood into the stone-carved recipe.
[295% Compatibility with Demonic Blood]
His eyes widened.
"Nearly triple efficiency… Incredible."
With the right process, this statue might match even a first-tier divine warrior.
Still, dawn was approaching. Reluctantly, he set his tools aside to rest.
By midday, fully recovered and fed, Rowe was summoned by a young Asgardian scout.
"Captain Rowe, the Commander requests your presence."
He followed the messenger to the war council chamber — where Odin All-Father sat at the central table. At his side stood Princess Hela and Lord Tyr, the god of war and justice.
Rowe bowed respectfully.
"Lord Odin. Princess Hela. Lord Tyr."
Odin approached with a strong clap on the shoulder.
"You've exceeded expectations, Rowe. You've grown faster than even I foresaw."
"Thanks to your guidance, All-Father," Rowe answered humbly.
Odin grew serious.
"I've summoned you for a critical mission — one involving your entire unit."
He gestured at the war map, pointing to troll territory.
"A handmaiden of Warner Palace was killed by trolls. You and Heimdall apprehended her killer, yes?"
"Yes."
"During interrogation, we learned she cared for Prince Hogan — the Warner King's youngest son. He's only two years old. According to the troll's confession… he's alive. But being held hostage."
Silence fell.
"I want you to lead the rescue. You've seen the enemy. You understand their tactics. You're the best choice."
Rowe blinked.
"Hogan?"
The name echoed in his mind.
Hogan… Wasn't that one of the Warriors Three?
A close friend of Thor. A legendary Asgardian warrior.
This wasn't just a mission.
It was about preserving a legacy — one destined to stand beside gods.
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