Chapter 876: Don’t overthink it; he just did what he wanted.

Sapphire crossed the portal carrying almost all of Vergil’s weight against her own body. The passage closed behind them with a low sound, replacing the red sky of the Demon Realm with a cold, clear night somewhere in Europe. The air there was completely different from Sparda. There was no miasma, demonic pressure, or colossal roots trying to install a stolen divine bridge. There were only fields surrounded by ancient forests, distant mountains, and a sky covered in stars. The family’s new estate occupied an absurd amount of land.

Calling it a mansion no longer seemed sufficient.

The main building stood at the center of a territory surrounded by discreet walls, enchantments, and private forests. Several smaller structures were spread around it, connected by stone roads, gardens, bridges, and narrow artificial canals. There were lodgings for servants, independent houses for family members, training grounds, libraries, workshops, greenhouses, warehouses, a private temple, and even a small residential district reserved for permanent guests.

From a distance, it looked like a private city.

Sapphire had acquired the property after realizing the family continued growing at a completely irresponsible rate. The old mansion could no longer accommodate wives, children, servants, allies, protected individuals, magical animals, sealed entities, and visitors who appeared without warning. There was always a missing bedroom, some room destroyed during training, or someone complaining that they had to cross three corridors just to find a kitchen.

The new estate solved part of the problem.

At least until Vergil brought another twelve thousand people into the family.

Sapphire looked at his face resting against her shoulder.

"No," she murmured to herself. "They are not all living here."

Vergil did not answer.

He was sleeping deeply, his breathing heavy and regular against her neck. Mjölnir remained attached to his waist, silent for the first time since being taken from Thor. Even the weapon seemed to understand that its new wielder had reached his limit.

Sapphire walked toward the main entrance.

The doors opened before she touched them.

Viviane appeared in the great hall, still wearing a simple work dress. Her hair was tied back practically, and small threads of spiritual water floated around her fingers, indicating that she had probably been tending the lake or performing some magical task before sensing their arrival.

Her gaze found Vergil.

The gentle expression disappeared immediately.

Her eyes narrowed, her body stiffened, and all the water around her hands stopped in the air.

"What happened?"

Sapphire continued walking.

"I have already summarized this too many times."

Viviane approached quickly.

"Then summarize it one more time."

"Heimdall tried to imprison him and Freya. The Valkyries rebelled against Odin. Vergil stole the Bifröst. Thor tried to recover Mjölnir. Vergil beat Thor. Odin appeared, tore through half his body with Gungnir, they fought, Vergil escaped, Gungnir followed him into another dimension and nearly tore off his arms. Then he killed Astaroth, threatened Amon, and transformed twelve thousand Valkyries into Aethernox."

Viviane continued staring at her.

Sapphire waited.

"Did you skip anything?" Viviane asked.

"Probably."

"How long was he gone?"

"A few hours."

Viviane looked at Vergil again.

"He cannot go out alone."

"Freya was with him."

"That did not help."

"Brynhildr too."

"That made it worse."

Sapphire gave a small laugh.

"Apparently."

Viviane brought her face closer to Vergil’s left arm. The scar left by Gungnir remained dark, deep, and irregular. Although Odin’s energy had been purified, the spiritual mark remained attached to the skin like the memory of a wound that refused to disappear.

She did not touch it.

"This struck his soul."

"Yes."

"Is he conscious?"

"He was until we reached the castle."

Vergil murmured something against Sapphire’s shoulder.

Both women fell silent.

Viviane tilted her head.

"What did he say?"

"I do not know."

Vergil spoke again, this time a little more clearly.

"Do not let... Thor touch the hammer..."

Mjölnir vibrated faintly at his waist.

Viviane closed her eyes for an instant.

"He is giving orders while asleep."

"That is normal."

"It should not be."

"But it is."

Viviane passed a hand over her face before examining the destroyed clothing, bloodstains, burns, and the way Vergil barely reacted to their conversation. She had seen him return from severe battles before. She had seen him with broken bones, destroyed organs, and nearly exhausted energy. But it was rare to see him simply sleep without personally confirming first that everyone was safe.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked.

Sapphire adjusted his body against her shoulder.

"Put him in your Spiritual Lake. His soul needs rest, and the water should accelerate the recovery. I want him to sleep without anyone waking him to talk about Asgard, Valkyries, Amon, Helheim, or any other crisis."

Viviane did not need to think.

She raised one hand.

A sphere of transparent water appeared around Vergil, carefully separating him from Sapphire. The liquid did not wet the floor or her clothes. It simply surrounded his body like a living bubble, supporting his head, arms, and legs in a comfortable position. Vergil floated inside without waking while small currents of spiritual energy began passing through his skin.

Sapphire released the weight and rotated her shoulder.

"He became heavy."

Viviane looked at her.

"You would carry him for a week and still complain if someone tried to help."

"I did not say I disliked it."

"I know."

The bubble moved slowly toward a side corridor. Viviane walked beside it, controlling the water with a simple movement of her fingers.

"I will leave him at the bottom of the lake," she said. "The spiritual pressure is stronger there. I can also create a barrier so no one enters."

"Do that."

"Zex and Iridia are on the estate. I will warn them not to disturb him."

"Especially Iridia."

Viviane smiled.

"She will want to check whether he is alive."

"Tell her he is."

"And if she insists?"

"Throw her into another lake."

"We have three."

"Good. Choose the coldest."

Viviane almost laughed, but her gaze returned to Vergil’s scar.

"Are you staying?"

Sapphire shook her head.

"I need to return to the Underworld. Sepphirothy is interrogating Brynhildr and Sigrun. Lilith will probably want to examine the Bifröst. And someone needs to make sure the Valkyries do not turn Sparda into an enormous military camp before sunrise."

"Gwen is taking care of them."

"Exactly why someone needs to supervise."

Viviane nodded.

The water bubble began crossing the corridor, carrying Vergil toward the outer section of the estate, where the Spiritual Lake occupied an area surrounded by ancient trees and stones covered in runes.

Sapphire followed for several steps.

"Take care of him."

Viviane looked over her shoulder.

"He is my husband too."

Sapphire smiled.

"I know."

"I will let him sleep until his energy stabilizes."

"Even if he wakes complaining."

"Especially if he wakes complaining."

Sapphire nodded, satisfied.

Viviane continued walking and disappeared down the corridor with Vergil floating inside the sphere. Mjölnir released a small discharge into the water, but the spiritual liquid absorbed the energy without difficulty.

Sapphire watched until she could no longer see them.

Then she opened another portal.

"Now I need to explain to more people why we have a Bifröst."

She crossed while grumbling that this would probably be the ninth time she summarized the events.

...

In Asgard, the situation was far less peaceful.

Heimdall remained kneeling on the floor of a war room, his hands pressed against the stones while his forehead repeatedly struck the surface.

"Forgive me."

His forehead touched the floor.

"I was useless."

Another impact.

"I did not notice."

Another.

"I did not protect the Bifröst."

Again.

"I did not protect Gjallarhorn."

Thor sat farther back, his face partially covered in bandages and healing magic. His nose had been reconstructed, his jaw returned to place, and his eyes could already open, but his pride still appeared far more injured than his body.

Sif stood beside him.

Odin watched Heimdall without showing anger.

The All-Father stood near a table covered in maps of the Nine Realms, communication runes, troop records, and several extinguished points that had once represented Valkyrie units. Gungnir rested in his hand, completely intact, although several black marks remained on the shaft where Vergil had nearly managed to seal it.

Heimdall struck his head against the floor once more.

"I failed you."

Odin finally raised his voice.

"Enough."

Heimdall stopped, but did not lift his face.

"It was not your fault," Odin said.

The guardian tightened his fingers against the floor.

"I should have seen it."

"Neither did I."

Heimdall slowly raised his head.

Odin continued:

"I have eyes spread throughout the Nine Realms. Ravens, runes, spirits, informants, and ancient pacts. I watched giants, the Vanir, Helheim, and even movements in Midgard. Even so, I failed to notice the Valkyries preparing to leave."

Sif frowned.

"How is that possible?"

"That is what I am trying to discover."

Odin walked toward the table.

"The Valkyries did not hide only a meeting or a message. They hid resentment accumulated over ages. They acted across several units at the same time and waited for the exact opportunity to break away."

Heimdall lowered his head again.

"Brynhildr deceived me."

"Brynhildr deceived all of us."

Thor shifted in the chair and grimaced when his ribs reacted.

"I need to go after Mjölnir."

Odin did not even look toward him.

"No."

Thor tightened his grip on the chair’s arm.

"She is my weapon."

"She no longer seems to consider herself that."

The statement hurt more than his injuries.

Thor rose partially.

"I am going to recover my friend."

Odin turned his single eye toward his son.

"You are not going anywhere."

"Father."

"Without Mjölnir, your chances of dying have increased too much."

Thor became still.

Odin approached him.

"I watched your battle. The Demon King did not need to use half of what he showed against me. He abandoned his weapons and still destroyed you in hand-to-hand combat."

Thor closed his hands.

"He provoked me."

"And you fell for every provocation."

"I was trying to recover Mjölnir."

"Exactly."

Odin rested Gungnir against the floor.

"You did not fight him. You chased the hammer like an animal chasing food. He noticed your dependence, removed his weapons, and proved that you did not know what to do without her."

Thor looked away.

Sif looked toward her husband, but did not defend him.

Odin continued:

"If you enter the Demon Realm now, he may use Mjölnir herself to kill you. The weapon accepted his energy. I saw the runes respond. I saw the lightning change. Worse, I saw that she did not attempt to return to you."

Thor appeared to age several years upon hearing that.

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

Before Odin answered, Sif stepped forward.

"This is war."

Thor looked toward her.

Sif continued:

"He invaded Asgard, stole the Bifröst, took Gjallarhorn, claimed Mjölnir, humiliated the heir to the throne, and tore twelve thousand Valkyries from our structure. No realm would accept this without answering."

Thor shook his head.

"We are not in a position to begin a war."

Sif stared at him in surprise.

"You just said you were going to retrieve Mjölnir."

"Retrieving my weapon is not the same as mobilizing Asgard."

"It will look exactly the same."

Thor remained silent.

Sif turned toward Odin.

"We can still travel between the realms. The absence of the Bifröst makes it more difficult, but it does not imprison us. We have ancient paths, runic magic, Vanir portals, and routes through Yggdrasil."

Odin shook his head.

"For small groups."

"Then we send small groups."

"To die?"

Sif clenched her jaw.

Odin pointed toward the maps.

"Without the Valkyries, the Einherjar are limited. They did not merely transport warriors between battlefields and Valhalla. They organized units, conducted souls, evaluated the dead, maintained the gates, and stabilized part of the routes."

Heimdall became even paler.

Odin touched one of the runes on the table.

Nothing happened.

"Valhalla still exists," he said. "But we cannot operate its structure efficiently. Newly dead souls are not arriving as they should. The Einherjar already gathered can fight, but moving them in mass without the Bifröst and without the Valkyries will require time, energy, and vulnerable routes."

Sif looked toward the extinguished points on the map.

"Then we lost Valhalla too."

"Not completely."

"But enough."

Odin did not answer.

That was confirmation enough.

Thor approached the table.

"We can call allies."

"Which ones?"

"The other pantheons."

Odin released a humorless laugh.

"The same pantheons that will observe our weakness before deciding whether to help?"

Thor fell silent.

Odin passed a hand over the map of the Nine Realms.

"Asgard lost its primary transportation route, much of the operational force connected to the dead, control over Gjallarhorn, and Thor’s military symbol. If we mobilize what remains against the Demon Realm, we leave our borders open. Giants may advance. The Vanir may demand old compensation. Other pantheons may occupy disputed territories."

Sif slowly understood.

"We cannot attack without revealing that we are vulnerable."

"We already revealed it," Odin replied. "The question is how much we can still hide."

Heimdall closed his eyes.

Thor looked at his empty hands.

Odin stood before the map for several seconds, organizing all the losses in silence. The more he analyzed them, the more deliberate the move appeared. Vergil had arrived with Freya. He had been intercepted. He had secured the Valkyries’ support. He had removed the Bifröst, Gjallarhorn, and Mjölnir, destroyed Thor’s immediate ability to respond, survived the confrontation with the All-Father, and retreated into territory Asgard could not invade without consequences.

The old man tightened his grip around Gungnir.

"That bastard planned everything."

Sif looked toward him.

Odin continued:

"He did not merely steal artifacts. He removed our mobility, our logistics, and part of our authority over the dead. Now we cannot act without risking another pantheon attacking Asgard during our absence."

Thor raised his face.

"Do you think he planned the rebellion?"

"Perhaps he did not create the resentment. But he knew how to use it."

Heimdall murmured:

"He looked at Brynhildr as though he already expected it."

Odin slowly nodded.

"Then the Bifröst was not an impulse."

Sif observed the distant crater through the war room’s window.

"It was strategy."

Silence fell between them.

All of them imagined Vergil seated inside some hall in the Demon Realm, studying maps, predicting political reactions, and calculating how to weaken Asgard without needing to conquer it.

The truth was far less impressive.

Vergil had thought about almost none of it.

He had merely gone looking for Freya, become irritated with Heimdall, stolen the Bifröst because Qliphoth wanted it, kept Mjölnir because the weapon liked him, and accepted twelve thousand Valkyries because they needed somewhere to live.

In simple terms, as Sapphire had said, he had won the divine lottery.