In fact, Duncan’s battle didn’t gain much legendary level, because he borrowed the divine power of the Furious Gods, so the legends mostly focused on the Furious Gods, and people only sang praises of their mighty power.
points of legendary level.
Considering what was gained before, it’s like recouping the investnt cost.
What’s next is all profit.
Duncan raised his cup and drank it all, realizing it wasn’t easy being a tool; albeit he didn’t gain much legendary level, his strength had grown rapidly.
The witch Gleya gave Duncan an insightful glance, and sensuously twisted her slim waist as she gracefully departed.
She believed she understood Duncan and thought this barbarian wouldn’t settle for this.
This man would want to ascend to godhood sooner or later.
Duncan stood up, gazing into the distant sea, looking down at the carefree barbarians below, pondering over sothing, lost in deep thought.
The Furious Gods are complex beings.
They are brutal, bloodthirsty, domineering, yet they fiercely protect their own; while condescendingly overlooking mortals, they greatly value fearless warriors.
Lady of Fury is as changeable as the sea, generous like the nurturing ocean, wrathful like the stormy tsunami that engulfs all!
Such a magnificent presence.
Indeed, as the saying goes, accompanying a ruler is like accompanying a tiger.
Duncan’s hibernation needed to continue, because Athena’s darkened aspect hadn’t yet solidified its footing in this world, and dealing with the Furious Gods in the future would not be easy.
There’s no doubt the Furious Gods have already prepared to wage war against other pantheons in the real world.
Whoever wins.
Will beco the core belief of the real world for the next millennia, achieving historical significance comparable to the ancient Greek or Norse pantheon.
"The mythical era is indeed not easy to navigate."
Duncan thought back to long ago, imagining he’d thrive upon entering the mythical era; yet this human form started at such a high point, even in a myth’s ending era, there were many formidable presences he couldn’t provoke, forcing him to rely on the power of the Furious Gods.
anwhile.
In the southeastern grasslands of the continent, an enormous nomadic tribe, consisting of tens of thousands of nomadic warriors, driving their endless cattle, sheep, and horse herds, was migrating towards the prosperous western continent.
The West Guti people.
Also known as the Scythians.
The screech of a mighty eagle echoed across the sky.
A giant eagle, its wings spanning several ters, slowly descended, as the leading grassland warrior raised his muscular arm, gazing at the eagle perched on it, his vision crossing mountains, eyes fixed on the distance.
The whispers of spirits.
The powerful elves of the Central State were continuously expanding, even the fierce combat branches within the human nomadic tribes had to avoid clashing directly with the elves.
The elves’ arrows were more ruthless and precise, their battles like elegant dances, yet strictly disciplined, adorned in magnificent armor, possessing agility and quickness like the wind, far beyond what ordinary humans could handle.
These nomads’ ancestors migrated and fought for over a thousand years, reaching the end of the continental plate.
Now, they are returning ho.
The original human tribes began migrating from that expansive grassland, part moving west, and part moving east.
"The spirits say, our era is coming."
The leading majestic man looked at the shaman priest beside him, speaking deeply, "They pointed to the direction of the fire, urging us to conquer those who worship the fla."
The elves of the Central State will eventually arrive.
Humanity must also catch up with the era’s chariot!
If they can’t find their desired vast grasslands in the east, then they’ll return west, striving to reach another end.
In ancient dark ages.
When human primitive tribes were slowly pioneering the darkness, exploring the world, the brave and fierce nomads had already slashed through the veils of the dark ages, stepping on lands humans had never reached before.
They pursued grasslands and rivers, seeking fertile pastures amidst wilderness, climbing mountain peaks, traversing millennia of migrations to the continent’s farthest end.
During this near-millennium, the nomads evolved from the primitive totem eras into the shamanistic age of spirits.
Due to a certain existence, the original shaman spirits foresaw the future, realizing they wouldn’t await eagles soaring above the grasslands.
Tis changed too quickly.
The man favored by the heavens might not be favored by the era.
As changes occurred in the Root World, hundreds of years ago, the spirits embraced the many migrating nomadic tribes quietly entering this world, becoming the core belief of the grassland humans without the gods’ realization.
The na Khan resonated everywhere.
As this Khan raised his long knife, thousands of primitive shaman witchcraft mbers chanted ancient songs loudly, praising Heaven!
This ancient nomadic tribe only reveres Heaven and Earth, the spirits of the world; in their eyes, all gods are pseudo-gods.
Beneath Heaven, the spirits nurtured them.
In the na of Heaven, let’s battle the gods once more!
......
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