When the game shut down, I took my skills with me.

Chapter 73 Muscle Vodka and the Name of God

The Arctic, beneath the ice cap.

The enormous underground cavity was deathly silent.

Both human soldiers and mountain-like frost giants held their breath. All eyes were focused on the two disproportionately large figures in the center of the arena.

One of them was Ymir, a frost giant king who stood over fifteen meters tall and whose muscles were as hard as ancient ice.

The other was Ivanov, a human general who was shirtless, less than two meters tall, and covered in hideous scars.

"Come on, big guy." Ivanov grinned, hoisted the fire axe from his shoulder into his hand, and pushed off with his feet.

He charged forward like an angry polar bear.

A hint of disdain flashed in Ymir's eyes as he watched the "little bug" charging towards him. He didn't even move a step, but casually swung the rock warhammer in his hand, which was larger than a car.

The warhammer, with a whistling sound as it tore through the air, crashed down toward Ivanov's head.

Ivanov's eyes gleamed with the calm composure of a seasoned warrior. Instead of taking the blow head-on, he slid sideways just before the warhammer fell, narrowly avoiding the fatal strike.

"boom!"

The giant hammer slammed into the solid ice, shaking the entire underground cavity. Countless shards of ice flew out, scattering like shrapnel.

Using the momentum of his slide, Ivanov spun like a top, his fire axe flashing as it struck Ymir's calf hard.

"clang!"

A loud bang, like metal clashing, was heard.

The sharp blade of the fire axe left only a faint white mark on Ymir's pale skin.

Ivanov felt a tremendous force of recoil coming from the axe handle, and his hand was instantly ripped open, bleeding profusely.

"roar!"

Ymir seemed enraged by this ineffective attack. He raised his massive, pillar-like foot and stomped it down hard on Ivanov on the ground.

Ivanov rolled away on the spot, dodging the attack in a sorry state.

The giant foot stepped on the spot where he had just been, leaving a huge footprint that was half a meter deep.

This was a battle with no suspense whatsoever.

With his superhuman combat instincts and agility, Ivanov dodged Ymir's attacks time and again, attacks powerful enough to split mountains and shatter rocks. But each of his counterattacks was like scratching an itch through a boot, unable to inflict any real damage on the frost giant leader.

His physical strength was being rapidly depleted.

"Bang!"

After dodging dozens of attacks, Ivanov was a beat too slow. He was struck by the edge of Ymir's warhammer and sent flying like a rag doll, crashing heavily into the distant ice wall and spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"General!"

The soldiers of the "Red Bear" unit gasped and instinctively raised their weapons.

"No one is allowed to move!" Ivanov struggled to his feet, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, and roared at his men, "This is my battle!"

He looked at the increasingly impatient frost giant king not far away and knew he had reached his limit.

But he cannot lose.

He lost, and he and his troops will remain here forever. More importantly, he will bring shame upon that "gentleman."

A resolute madness flashed in Ivanov's eyes.

He pulled out the silver flask from his waist, which was already somewhat deformed from being smashed, unscrewed the cap, and poured half of the remaining, strongest vodka onto his bloody wounds, while swallowing the other half.

The strong liquor burned like fire against his wounds and internal organs.

The intense pain jolted him awake.

"For the administrator!"

Ivanov let out a deafening roar. He slammed the flask to the ground, gripped the fire axe tightly with both hands, and channeled all his strength into his legs.

Like a cannonball, he launched a desperate charge against Ymir once again, and for the last time.

This time, Ymir sensed something unusual about him.

That was not power, but a purer, more cohesive will.

A kind of fanatical "faith" that can dedicate everything to a certain existence!

This willpower even made Ymir, the ancient king, feel a slight tremor in his heart.

For the first time, a solemn expression appeared on Ymir's face. He raised his warhammer high, preparing to deliver his strongest blow to this worthy opponent, bestowing upon him final glory.

However, just as Ivanov rushed in front of him, about to swing the final axe,

Ymir abruptly withdrew his warhammer, allowing Ivanov's fire axe to strike his knee.

"clang!"

Sparks flew everywhere.

Ivanov collapsed to the ground, exhausted, gasping for breath.

Ymir slowly lowered his enormous head, looking at the tiny figure at his feet who could no longer stand, and fell silent.

He stopped his restless tribesmen and pointed to the communication device on the ear of a "Red Bear" soldier.

The soldier paused for a moment, then reacted and immediately activated the multilingual translation plugin provided by the Moon Clan.

A deep, majestic, and ancient thought, transmitted through the translator, entered the minds of all the humans present: "Which deity is the 'administrator' you speak of?"

Ivanov, lying on the ground, was taken aback upon hearing this, then grinned.

He knew he had won his gamble.

He struggled, leaning against a piece of broken ice, his eyes filled with unwavering fervor and worship. In a hoarse voice, through a translator, he described the "miracle" of that being to the Frost Giant King.

"He is not a god, he is—the one who makes the rules."

"With a flick of his finger, he can flatten a city or make it rise from the ground."

"He can alter time and space; he can raise the dead and put God into eternal slumber."

"This weapon in my hand, which could threaten you, is nothing more than a trivial 'gift' that you casually tossed to me by the master."

With each word Ivanov spoke, Ymir, the leader of the frost giants, saw his eyes, burning with a blue, eerie light, grow brighter.

When Ivanov finished speaking, Ymir's usually icy face revealed an unprecedented solemn expression, a mixture of shock, awe, and realization.

He remained silent for a long time, as if confirming an ancient prophecy that had been sealed away for countless years.

Finally, he slowly lowered his noble head toward Ivanov.

"I see."

"Please follow me, messenger of the world reshaper. Our race has waited far too long for your arrival."