Chapter 857: I have technique.

The door to the room opened a few seconds later, but not dramatically. It simply opened too quickly, striking the wall with a dry sound, and a young witch appeared in the doorway trying to maintain the dignity of someone who had clearly been run over by her own curiosity. Her hair was a little messy, her hat crooked, and her expression shifted between irritation and fascination.

Behind her, filling almost the entire corridor, stood Hercules.

He was large in a way that made the architecture seem smaller. Not just tall, not just muscular, but carried by a physical presence that did not need divine energy to be noticed. He was the kind of man who entered a room and made everyone immediately understand that doors, chairs, and fragile people needed to be careful. Over his shoulders, he wore an enormous lion cloak, with the beast’s head resting like a trophy too alive to seem like only fabric and hide. The mane fell around him like a wild crown.

The witch cleared her throat.

"Queen Seris," she said, trying to sound formal. "I brought the... visitor."

Seris looked at Hercules’s size, then at the witch.

"Did you bring him, or did he decide to enter and you followed along so it would not look like you had lost control of the situation?"

The witch stayed silent for a second.

"Yes."

"Good answer."

Hercules looked at Seris, then at Aphrodite, then at Vergil.

His gaze stopped there.

Vergil stared back at him too.

The two had seen each other before. The Heavenly Tournament was not a small memory. Back then, Hercules had carried a different tension. More weight on his shoulders, more hardness in his face, more of that air of someone used to being called a hero while still feeling the chains of the stories placed upon him. Now, however, there was something different. The strength was still absurd, the presence still enormous, but he seemed lighter. Not free of everything. No one who had lived like him ever became free of everything. But less trapped.

Hercules studied Vergil for a few seconds.

Vergil did the same.

Neither of them smiled.

Neither of them tried to impose his presence.

Then, almost at the same time, both nodded.

Aphrodite released the breath she had not realized she was holding. "Great. No one broke anything yet."

Hercules looked at her. "Yet?"

"I know the men in my life."

Vergil slowly turned his face toward her.

Aphrodite smiled with completely false innocence. "My brother and my husband. Do not make that face."

Freya, seated farther back, blinked when she heard that. Sapphire did not bother hiding a smile. Seris looked ready to turn the entire sentence into official Salem gossip.

Hercules entered the room, and the witch closed the door behind him with respectful haste. He brought his hands to the lion cloak and removed it from his shoulders. The enormous beast head fell to the side as he held it, heavy enough to crack an ordinary table if dropped carelessly. Hercules placed it on an empty chair, which immediately groaned under the weight.

The chair did not break.

Seris looked at it, impressed. "Good girl."

The chair became very still.

Hercules pulled another chair, tested it with a suspicious look, then sat. The chair creaked, but survived. He rested his elbows on his knees, interlaced his fingers, and looked directly at Aphrodite. All the playful air disappeared from his face.

"What do you need?"

Aphrodite became serious at once.

She approached Vergil by instinct, but did not sit on his lap again. She only stood beside him, one hand lightly touching his arm before looking at Hercules. Her brother’s presence seemed to stabilize her in a different way from Vergil’s presence. With Vergil, there was love, safety, and desire. With Hercules, there was family. A problematic, broken family, with horrible gods all around it, but still family.

"I will explain from the beginning," she said.

Hercules nodded. "Explain."

Aphrodite took a deep breath.

"Persephone came to Vergil at my flower shop. Hades is imprisoned in Tartarus along with Thanatos. Hades himself sealed the domain to prevent something from escaping. It is not only a Greek crisis. Helheim was affected, Naraka as well, and there are signs of interference in other death systems."

Hercules did not interrupt.

But his expression hardened when he heard Tartarus.

Aphrodite continued, "After that, Nyx contacted Vergil. She said Tartarus was not merely attacked. It was recognized. Mapped. Something is trying to find the common point between the death systems. A place older than the Underworlds. Seris calls it the Outer Sepulcher."

Hercules looked at Seris.

Seris raised a finger. "Bad name for a worse thing."

"Understood," Hercules said.

Aphrodite went on, "Seris examined ancient texts and confirmed that the Outer Sepulcher is real, or real enough for all of us to be worried. Meanwhile, Freya appeared with information about Helheim, Frey’s disappearance, ancient blacksmiths, and passages older than the normal routes of the dead."

Hercules shifted his gaze to Freya.

Freya straightened her posture, clearly uncomfortable. Not only because he was enormous or because his presence was too alive, as Aphrodite had warned. There was also the weight of being observed by someone who did not seem to be judging her, but evaluating whether she was too close to breaking.

"Frey is your brother," Hercules said.

"Yes."

"Twin."

"Yes."

He nodded once, simple. "Continue."

Freya seemed surprised that he did not say anything else.

Aphrodite took the floor again. "Freya found a fragment of one of Frey’s weapons. Something tore the concept of life out of the metal. It did not break it, curse it, or corrupt it. It tore it out. Seris traced the signature and confirmed it came from Helheim."

Seris added, "And there was an inversion tied to doors that do not open, but convince the world they have always been open."

Hercules frowned. "That sounds like something that should be broken before talking to it."

"Unfortunately," Seris said, "conceptual things do not usually accept that kind of solution at the beginning."

"Do they usually accept it later?"

"Sometimes."

"Then I still like the option."

Vergil looked at him for an instant.

Hercules noticed and shrugged. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You thought it too."

"Yes."

Aphrodite passed a hand over her face. "Please do not understand each other so quickly for the worst possible reason."

Sapphire laughed softly. "Too late."

Aphrodite continued before that became something else. "We called Hela. She confirmed that Frey entered Helheim without permission. He was still carrying the presence of the living, though distorted and wounded. An ancient passage was opened using his nature as a key. Hela closed part of it, but Frey is no longer in Helheim. She also said Fenrir disappeared, although with Fenrir that could mean anything."

Hercules let out a low sound, almost a sigh.

"Children of Loki."

Vergil let out a crooked laugh. "Yes."

Hercules looked at him. "You understood late?"

"A few minutes ago."

"Normal. Everyone tries to forget Loki until he becomes the explanation for something."

Seris pointed at Hercules. "I like him."

Aphrodite looked at her. "Do not encourage him."

Hercules returned his attention to Aphrodite. "Hela authorized entry?"

"Yes. For Vergil and Freya to search for Frey."

"Only them?"

Aphrodite lifted her chin. "She did not say only them."

Vergil looked at her. "That does not mean everyone will go."

"It will be discussed," Aphrodite replied, using his tone.

Sapphire smiled.

Hercules noticed the dynamic and seemed amused, but did not comment. Instead, he stayed silent for a few seconds, absorbing everything. His posture changed a little. Less protective brother, more warrior assessing route, weight, enemy, and chance of disaster.

"I can help," he said at last.

Freya took a deep breath, as if the sentence had removed some of the weight from her chest.

Aphrodite nodded. "I knew it."

"But I need something of Frey’s to follow."

Freya went still.

Hercules looked directly at her. "Something of his. Not something about him. A weapon, clothing, jewelry, a strand of hair, blood, any object that carried his presence for long enough. If he passed through Helheim wounded, distorted, and was used as a key, the common trail may be compromised. I need something more personal."

Freya tightened her hands. "I have fragments of the weapon."

Seris shook her head before Hercules could answer. "The weapon was conceptually wounded. Using that fragment as the only focus may pull the tracker toward the passage, not toward Frey."

Hercules looked at her. "So it can find where he was used, but not necessarily where he is."

"Exactly."

Freya grew tense again. "I have other things."

Aphrodite approached her. "What?"

Freya did not answer immediately. She seemed to search within herself for something she did not want to hand over to the room. Not out of simple distrust, but because personal objects from a missing brother were not just tools. They were memories.

"I have a ring," she said at last. "Not exactly his. Ours. A pair. We made them when we were too young to understand that gods could lose things too."

Sapphire’s expression softened.

Hercules only nodded. "It will work."

Freya looked at him. "You do not even know what it is."

"If it was shared by both of you and still matters, it works better than a broken blade."

The answer was simple enough to leave Freya speechless.

Vergil observed Hercules more closely. That was the part the stories probably left out. The strength was obvious. The presence too. But there was an instinctive understanding there, something practical and human at the same time. Hercules did not need to know the entire theory to realize that a real bond could guide better than a dead artifact.

Seris raised her hand. "Carefully. The Outer Sepulcher imitates bonds. Using an object shared between Freya and Frey may strengthen the tracking, but it may also draw the attention of something trying to use that bond."

Hercules looked at her. "Then we do it in layers. First you seal, then I follow."

Seris blinked. "You speak as if you have done this before."

"I have tracked people in places that tried to lie."

"With witchcraft?"

"With stubbornness."

Seris stayed silent for half a second.

"That should not work."

Aphrodite smiled. "With him, it does."

Vergil murmured, "I am beginning to understand."

Aphrodite pointed at him. "See?"

"I did not say I like him."

"Yet."

Hercules looked at Vergil. "Does she always do this?"

"Yes."

"Do you get used to it?"

"No."

"Good."

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes. "Are you two uniting against me?"

"No," both answered, almost at the same time.

Sapphire laughed.

Freya, despite the tension, let out a weak laugh. It was small, almost involuntary, but real. Aphrodite noticed and did not comment. Perhaps that was better.

Hercules returned to the matter. "Where is the ring?"

Freya looked at Vergil.

He opened the same small portal to her house without asking for more explanation. Freya swallowed dryly, walked to the opening, and reached a hand through it, searching in a drawer that was not visible from the room. It took a few seconds. When she withdrew her hand, she held a small golden metal box, old and marked by soft runes.

She opened it.

Inside was a simple ring of pale gold, with a small solar engraving that had almost faded. It was not flashy. It did not look like a war artifact. It looked like something made by two people who wanted to keep a promise before the world taught them to distrust promises.

Freya held the ring for too long before handing it over.

Hercules did not extend his hand immediately. "Are you sure?"

She looked at him, surprised by the question.

"No."

Hercules nodded. "Best answer."

Aphrodite looked sideways at Vergil. "I told you."

Vergil did not answer, but he did not disagree either.

Freya handed over the ring.

The instant Hercules touched it, the room seemed to react differently. Not as it reacted to Seris’s magic, nor as it had reacted to the dead fragment. It was something simpler. More physical. Hercules closed his fingers around the ring, lowered his head, and took a deep breath.

His energy did not spread into runes.

It did not draw circles.

It did not light symbols.

It only became denser.

As if the world around him were forced to admit that this man was paying attention.

Seris leaned forward slightly, fascinated. "That is ridiculous."

Sapphire looked at her. "What?"

"He is tracking without formal technique."

Hercules opened his eyes. "I have technique."

"What technique?"

"I search."

Seris stared at him.

Aphrodite smiled with pride.

Vergil, against his own will, seemed almost amused.

Hercules turned the ring between his fingers. "There is something in it. Light, heat, open field, harvest, shared blood, an old promise... and recent fear."

Freya stiffened. "Fear?"

"Not yours." Hercules closed his eyes again. "His."

Freya’s face changed.

Hercules continued, lower, "He was trying to hold something. Not flee. Hold. That matters."

Vergil took a step forward. "Hold what?"

Hercules opened his eyes.

This time, the lightness in his face disappeared.

"A door."