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Bjorn scorned them in his heart. \'You two will warm my bed tonight!\' 

Deema pouted. "How hateful, ruining our time with hubby." 

The next moments could only be described as… poetic justice. The Karls below who had begun jeering at the Thralls who would receive punishment for their actions today stood frozen in shock. 

The two sisters flashed forward, their figures weaving together like a beautiful, choreographed dance. 

Their gowns fluttered. When the wind caught their figures just right, the fabrics would press flush against their bodies, revealing a nosebleed worthy sight. 

They two ladies weren\'t shy of this either. They seemed to flaunt themselves willingly, sending flirtatious winks back toward Alidor as though to say: \'See how many people want us? Let\'s see if you keep playing coy.\'

The two used nothing but the sharp, glistening claws that seemed to magically extend from the tips of their lovely fingers. They didn\'t think these Ragnor warriors were worth them bringing out their true strength, nor were they. 

These warriors here were of the mere second grade. Though to the Five Beast Clans, only their Clan Patriarchs and Grand Elders would reach such a standard, to the Dream Panthers, this was a joke. The worst part was that many of the Ragnor Warriors weren\'t even of the Peak Second Grade, but were rather of the Lower Second Grade. 

Compared to geniuses like the Dream Panthers, each of whom was at worst of the Fourth Order when entering the Pseudo Dao Realm and was at worst of the Eighth Order when entering the Celestial Realm… 

They stood no chance. 

Bjorn\'s expression twisted. His skin reddened as bellows of steam emitted from his skin, entering his Once Berserk state. 

Unfortunately, a mere doubling of strength fell flat on its face. Maybe if they could rely on the suppression of the Ragnor Universes, they would have stood a chance. But alas… There was no such thing within the Gates. 

Or… Maybe it would have made a bigger difference had they not been suppressed by 10 000x gravity. But, even more unfortunately, they were led by a pigheaded \'Commander\'.

Dariyah\'s claw ripped a chunk of flesh out from Bjorn\'s neck, watching emotionlessly as his life slipped from him. 

The first Ragnor Gate had been conquered. 

**

"They\'re finally gone." 

Several guards across a decently built city wall sighed in relief. Though the wall was only about three meters tall, it had helped them greatly over the years. But, in recent times, it had become battered and bruised, not because of the beasts it was actually meant to protect against, but rather because of the so-called higher ups that were supposedly meant to protect them. 

This small city was known as Oswald City. Located near one of the furthest edges of Ragnor territory, it wasn\'t known for much other than its weakness. Its only true attraction was the fact for about four months out of the year, what the nobles called the \'Gates\' would open. 

Two ancient inscription etched pillars that had stood in their large field of green for more epochs than their history books recorded vibrated awake, gathering energy and opening a swirling portal. 

Many of the older individuals called it a portal to Valhalla. Beyond it was a dangerous trial and those that passed would transcend, bringing glory to their families. 

However, none of them ever seemed to survive. The few brave souls who dared to enter never returned. 

One day, just a few years ago, several powerful yellow haired and blue eyed people appeared to enter the Gates. But, unlike those poor souls of their Oswald City that never came back, they seemed to return in great condition every year, without fail. 

What enraged the inhabitants of Oswald City was that these bastards didn\'t deserve to see Valhalla. They were vile, obscene creatures who only thought of sex and alcohol. Too many families of their city had suffered under their strength. 

This reprieve that they experienced seemed to be the only time they could experience any form of happiness anymore. 

Ironically, those of Oswald City were lucky being so far from the central power of the Ragnor Clan. They were ignored because they were weak. Even their City Lord was only a meridian formation expert. 

Unfortunately for them, war began and now the very Ragnors who had ignored them were using them without remorse. 

It had already been days since they left, but it was only now the guards dared to speak such words. 

Yet… almost as though it was a jinx, the pillars in the far distance began to vibrate. 

The guards snapped their heads toward the offender, deep irrational rage coloring their features. As for the offender, he lowered his head in shame, his body trembling with fear. However, just when he was expecting a beating, he suddenly heard the gasps escape the lips of his fellow guards. It wasn\'t until he looked up that he finally understood… This sight, it was the most beautiful he had ever seen. 

A goddess descended from the skies. Her delicate feet landing softly on the green grass below. 

Her white gown fluttered, her violet hair billowing in the wind with a gentle undulation. Her breast were towering. Despite her chest being covered such that only the graceful line of her collarbone could just barely be seen, they stood too proudly, curved at a perfect ratio and bounding tenderly to the pace of her elegant gait. 

Soon, an army followed in behind her. If it wasn\'t for the prisoners of war that appeared not long after, chained together like a long line of fugitives, it would have been impossible to say that they had fought a war at all. 

As though following the blemishless nature of their goddess, not a speck of dust could be found on these warriors. Their backs stood as straight as javelins, their steps completely in lock. One could see from a distance the hidden passion they held for the goddess walking before them, but it was also clear that none dared to taint her image either.

Across several Ragnor outer territories, similar scenes were occurring everywhere. 

"Valyrie! A Valkyrie Goddess has descended!"