After coming out of the last teleportation gate, they traveled their journey to Ancient war ground of gods on Kent's throne.
The golden throne soared through the sky at a dizzying speed, cutting through the thick black clouds that swirled above.
Kent stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the horizon as the barren, black land below stretched for thousands of miles, devoid of life. It was as if the world itself had been scorched by some ancient curse. No plants. No animals. Only desolation.
Beside him, King Ragnar sat silently on steps, his expression as grim as the landscape. The air was cold, biting, filled with an oppressive energy that made Kent's skin crawl. He had faced powerful foes, unleashed storms of lightning, and wielded the wrath of gods, but the aura surrounding the War Ground made him uneasy.
