CHAPTER 755: THE VIKING PRINCESS’S BATTLE WILL

To be fair, it wasn’t the first time Freya had been approached by a powerful figure—far from it. Since the announcement of the tournament, many Viking warriors, drawn by her status and beauty, had come knocking on her door.

They all spoke in honeyed tones, offering promises of protection, pledging to fight in the tournament in her name. Their words sounded noble, polished, and even poetic. But Freya felt nothing but disdain and loathing for them.

She could see through the lies—see the lust and ambition beneath their pretenses. These men didn’t care about her; they merely wanted to wear the mask of a radiant knight, to make themselves appear different from the others who sought to claim control over her life. They wanted her as a trophy.

Yet, even as disgust curled in her heart, the Viking princess maintained a regal, prideful stance. Her chin held high, her expression calm, she let the Viking Legend into her hall. Soon they reached a long, ancient table, where they sat across from one another.

The Viking Legend who now sat before her carried an overwhelming aura of power, but there was no arrogance in his gaze. His eyes gleamed with quiet confidence, and as he studied Freya, a small smile curved across his lips.

"It’s no wonder that monsters have fallen for you, Princess."

Freya’s cold composure flickered into confusion at the unexpected comment. Her brow furrowed—what did he mean by monsters? Before she could ask, the man’s expression sharpened, and in a blink, his Totemic Power surged.

Energy flooded the room, weaving into an intricate field that blocked any form of spying or eavesdropping. The air seemed to shimmer as the barrier sealed.

Only after ensuring their privacy did the man speak again.

"My name is Angelo," he said calmly, his voice low but steady. "You may not have heard of me before—I’ve been away, in the Land of the Three Calamities, for the past few years."

Freya’s eyes widened slightly. The Land of the Three Calamities... she didn’t know much about it, but she did know it was a Doomsday World—a place of extreme danger and chaos. Her mind raced as the pieces clicked into place.

Angelo saw her realization settle, and a knowing smile appeared on his face as he nodded.

"Your guess is right. I was sent here by the Hero of Wrath, The Terror of the Vorometallicaes, Duke of the Graecia Empire, the Legendary True Depravita—Vlad Xaos."

For a moment, the rage and frustration that had dulled Freya’s gaze for so many years were swept away. Her eyes sparkled like the starry sky as she absorbed Angelo’s words.

She had always known that Vlad would rise to power—he had the ambition, the drive, the hunger. But hearing it aloud... the weight of his titles, the scope of his influence, the fact that he was now a Duke of the Graecia Empire—one of the most powerful hegemonies in the Higher Dimension—it was overwhelming.

Yet soon, her focus sharpened, and the cold, guarded expression returned to her face. She studied Angelo carefully, her curiosity now piqued.

"Did Vlad send you with a message?" she asked, her tone composed.

Angelo nodded, and after double-checking the integrity of his energy field, ensuring no one was listening or watching, he produced a small space ring.

Freya accepted it without hesitation. The moment her consciousness sank into it, Vlad’s voice—clear, strong, and warm—resonated in her mind.

"In here is the tool for you to earn your freedom with your own hands."

Her heartbeat skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. The True Depravita of Wrath’s voice wasn’t just an echo in her mind—it was a spark, igniting something deep within her. She focused her senses, probing deeper into the space ring.

Inside was a collection of treasures, but one item stood above all—a singular artifact, its power radiating so fiercely that it seemed to sear through the storage dimension itself.

The moment her mind touched it, a fighting will surged through her like a burning sun. Her eyes blazed with determination as she realized what it was. This... this was the key she needed to survive the tournament. No, not just survive—win!

Angelo watched her reaction, his own expression steady. In truth, he didn’t know exactly what the ring contained, but he had no doubt that Vlad, with his brilliance and foresight, would have given the Viking princess a treasure worthy of her potential.

After allowing Freya a moment to compose herself, Angelo spoke once more, his tone respectful.

"I will also be participating in the tournament, my lady. But rest assured—I do not seek your hand, nor do I harbor any desire for you. I understand the bond between you and the Hero of Wrath, and I would not dare to stand in the way."

He spoke plainly, with sincerity in his gaze, making his intentions clear.

"My sole goal is to take down as many opponents as possible, to clear the path for you. In doing so, I hope to repay the debt I owe Lord Vlad. It was thanks to his guidance—his drive—that I managed to gather enough sacrifices to reach my current level."

Freya stared into his eyes, searching for any hint of deception. There was none. The cold mask she had worn for so long melted slightly, replaced by a small, genuine smile—the first she had shown in years.

"I appreciate your help," she said softly, her voice warm yet composed.

"It is my pleasure," Angelo replied, rising to his feet with a respectful nod. "I’ll take my leave now, so as not to draw attention. Good luck, my lady."

With those final words, the Viking Legend departed, leaving Freya alone in her castle once more.

Yet, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she didn’t feel alone. A warm sensation spread through her chest as she gazed at the space ring in her hand—a symbol of hope, a promise of freedom.

Not wasting a moment, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and returned to her cultivation, using the unique resources in the space ring to truly cultivate for the first time in a long time.