Unfortunately, life was never that easy. As he arrived at the centre of the miasma, Odin knew instantly that something wasn’t right. Having lived almost his entire life on the run, he was in a position where he could trust his instinct and, the majority of the time, he would be right. He had been born to demon worshippers, already branding him a great evil at the ripe old age of eight when the demon sin of pride, Lucifer, had decided to use him as a vessel. That was his first offence against the church of Illumin, and to some extent his own Icebergian people. Then he had joined Grimoire Heart, instantly pissing off the Rune Knights and the royal guard of Fiore, this was made infinitely worse by Grimoire Heart’s attacks around Fiore, culminating in the successful assassination of a false king. The true king of Fiore, Arthurias, had sadly died almost instantly, causing a despot to gain control. Then there was becoming a Lich, another affront to the church that at this point had sent its holy knights after him. Siding with Zagan had upset a lot of people too, as had the general existence of Eternal Nightmare. So Odin wasn’t on the friendliest of terms with a lot of people, and that had honed his ability to sense when something wasn’t right, like right now.