You followed closely behind Brunhilde. This was the chamber where humanity’s champions were chosen.

You were about to meet your fighter. Michel Nostradamus. When you did enter the room, you saw…another Brunhilde?

Though, Michel soon discarded the wig and clothes, revealing himself. He took a deep breath and put a hand on his chest, the other pointing at you.

“Allow me to prophesy! The ones to win the Ragnarok will be…The Gods!”

It was clear he was lying. He wasn’t the most obnoxious man for no reason.