As the radiant multicolored light gradually faded, a black man clad in golden armor stood tall, holding a longsword engraved with a human face and a golden horn at his waist. Like an iron pine, he stood upright, and his orange-glowing pupils seed capable of seeing through all things.
"Long ti no see, Heimdall," Maelin said with a happy smile.
"Long ti indeed, Lord Maelin," Heimdall grinned. His gleaming white teeth ford a stark contrast with his dark face.
Heimdall—the guardian of the Bifröst, the Rainbow Bridge—wields the sword Hǫfuð and carries the horn Gjallarhorn. With eyes that can see all things, he is the mightiest gatekeeper of Asgard, the most formidable sentinel—no enemy can escape his gaze.
During Ragnarök, it was thanks to his warning that Odin could prepare in advance. Otherwise, the gods of Asgard might have faced more than just spiritual slumber.
Although Heimdall's appearance had changed drastically—once a fair-skinned, jade-like beauty, now a strong, dark-skinned warrior—his cosmos didn't lie. His divine soul had fully awakened.
"You've changed a lot, Heimdall," Maelin teased.
"I am still —the gatekeeper of Asgard, regardless of appearance," Heimdall replied.
"Well, you're still as serious as ever. But I didn't expect you to be the third to awaken," Maelin said, shaking his head.
"Prince Thor is still growing. Prince Loki and Lady Hela have passed away—their current selves are not who they once were. Sif, Balder, and Höðr show no signs of awakening yet. As for the others… Lord Maelin, I fear they are lost," Heimdall said with a hint of sadness.
"Lost"—a terrifying word for gods.
When divine souls fall asleep, a haze clouds their awakening minds. Over ti, this corrosion causes their consciousness to dissolve completely—no longer knowing who they are or where they're going.
To gods, this fate is worse than death.
"No rush, Heimdall. We still have ti—enough ti to find them again," Maelin said, comforting him with a hand on the shoulder.
"Thank you, Lord Maelin."
"We're old friends—no need for such formality. You're here to help Odin retrieve sothing, right?"
"That's part of it, Lord Maelin. His Majesty also sent to bestow a final grace upon our forr people," Heimdall replied, turning to look at Hilda and the people of Mjötudsel.
With a wave of his hand, eight tallic statues appeared behind him.
"This is… such a grand gesture from Odin?" Maelin exclaid in awe.
The eight tallic figures included: a dark purple twin-headed dragon, a silver-white eight-legged Pegasus, a dark purple serpent, a blue crystal skeleton, a sapphire-blue wolf, a green and silver pair of tigers, and a fiery red lyre.
These weren't just statues—they were armor. Maelin recognized them imdiately. They were the armors of Odin's eight retainers, the most powerful warriors beneath the gods: the God Warriors' God Robes.
"His Majesty tried to find new God Warriors within Asgard, but the Asgardians, who've long guarded the cosmos, have undergone genetic changes. Though they possess stronger bodies and longer lives, they've lost the potential they once had," Heimdall said regretfully.
Maelin remained silent. A god's warrior is their representative on Earth—whether it be Poseidon's Mariners, Hades' Specters, Ares' Berserkers, Odin's God Warriors, or the Saints. Though they differ, they all require a human vessel to bear their power.
In the mythological age, races like dragons, dwarves, elves, and giants flourished.
Though gifted with superior natural abilities and power at birth, they could never beco divine avatars or wear their gods' sacred armor.
It was precisely humanity's potential that allowed them to survive through the ages and beco the rulers of Earth.
Because humans begin with nothing, they possess infinite possibility.
"Lord Maelin, please take care of the new generation of God Warriors," Heimdall asked sincerely. Though they were new, the God Robes had once fought beside him—and so had their wearers.
"Don't worry. As long as they don't destroy the Earth, I won't restrain them," Maelin promised.
"Thank you."
Maelin nodded, but in his mory, if things went as expected, this generation of God Warriors would include soone ambitious—and soone vengeful.
The God Warriors once fought the Sanctuary because Poseidon had placed the Nibelungen Ring on Hilda, corrupting her kind heart. Without that, they would never have fought the Saints.
"It seems I need to prepare. Since I know in advance, I must act in advance. Odin entrusted with Mjötudsel—I won't let them be used again," Maelin thought to himself.
"Lord Maelin?"
"Hm? Oh, just thinking," Maelin replied to Heimdall's call.
"Then, Lord Maelin, the items entrusted by His Majesty…"
"Here—Draupnir the ring, and Svefnthorn the thorn. As for those two mutts, I haven't found them yet," Maelin replied.
"I see. Then I'll leave it to you."
"I was entrusted, and I will fulfill it. We're old friends—no need to be so formal."
"Understood, Lord. Then I shall—"
"Wait, Heimdall. Aren't you going to greet your believers?" Maelin pointed behind him.
It was a bit embarrassing—they'd been chatting and completely forgotten the kneeling people.
Heimdall turned around and saw Hilda and the people of Mjötudsel kneeling, their hands purple from the cold, but still pious.
"I am Heimdall, guardian god of Asgard. Arise, people of Mjötudsel."
"Thank you, Guardian God!"
With Heimdall's permission, the people rose slowly.
"You're this generation's Saintess?" Heimdall asked Hilda.
"Yes, Guardian God," Hilda replied. Though freezing, her heart was afla. This wasn't a re emissary—it was a true god, bearing the gifts of the Allfather.
"Let your people return ho and rest well."
"As you command, Guardian God." Hilda turned and shouted, "People of Mjötudsel! The Guardian God has bestowed his blessing—go ho and rest. Don't freeze your bodies."
Moved by Heimdall's rcy, the people bowed once more and slowly returned to their hos.
"Hilda, I trust Lord Maelin has told you—Asgard can no longer shelter Mjötudsel."
"Yes… Guardian God… I understand…" Hilda said sadly. Though she'd known, hearing it from a god pained her.
"His Majesty is pleased by your devotion. So he bestows this final blessing—the God Robes of the God Warriors. You must find their successors. From now on, you are His Majesty's representative on Earth, and the God Warriors your loyal guardians—and Mjötudsel's protectors.
"But rember, Hilda—though Lord Maelin won't interfere much, he is your new protector. Show him the sa devotion you showed His Majesty."
"Yes, Guardian God. Mjötudsel's faith is eternal—but we will also obey Lord Maelin," Hilda vowed.
"Then I can rest easy."
"Farewell, Guardian God!"
At last, Heimdall looked to Maelin. With Maelin's nod, he activated the Rainbow Bridge and returned to Asgard.
After Heimdall's departure, Hilda and the priesthood wept. Though they had accepted the truth—that their god had not abandoned them but assigned a new mission—it still hurt.
Maelin did not disturb them and waited quietly until they cald down after ten or so minutes.
"Lord Maelin, please forgive our rudeness," Hilda said once composed. It was improper to make a deity wait so long.
"No harm done. It only shows the depth of your faith. I'm happy for Odin—and pleased with your devotion."
Rather than being annoyed, Maelin respected Hilda and her priests even more. If they'd instantly shifted faith without hesitation, it would've disappointed him. Odin was their first god—would he beco the second?
What's most detestable isn't a cruel enemy—but a faithless traitor.
"Hilda, among your priests, who has the most authority after you?" Maelin asked.
"I am Hilford, Lord Maelin. I'm the High Priest and assist the Saintess in managing Mjötudsel."
Maelin looked over the elder who stepped forward and nodded. Hilford, too, was a sincere follower of Odin—his devotion no less than Hilda's.
"Hilda and Hilford, stay. The rest may leave."
"Yes, Lord Maelin."
As the others departed, Maelin led Hilda and Hilford back into the temple.
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