Chapter 878: Hela is beaming with happiness at the new news!

Frey had been walking for so long that he no longer trusted his own legs. The golden armor that had once carried the symbols of the Vanir barely existed anymore. The chest protection was split open from shoulder to abdomen, an entire section torn away and the rest covered in dark marks that did not resemble ordinary cuts. One shoulder guard had disappeared, the protection on his right thigh was held by a single leather strap, and the metal covering his left leg had lost all its shine, as though the dimension had drained even the memory that it had once been forged by divine hands. Dried blood covered his neck, arms, and part of his face, while newer wounds remained open because his energy was no longer sufficient to keep regeneration active at all times.

In his right hand, he carried what remained of his sword.

A little more than a third of the blade remained attached to the handle.

The metal was cracked, dull, and far too light. Every time Frey used the sword to tear through the space of that place, another section disappeared. It did not break from impact or pressure. The blade simply lost another piece of its existence, as though every cut demanded a payment that could never be recovered.

The last attempt had happened several hours earlier.

Or perhaps days.

Frey did not trust the sky to measure time. The gray vault above the plain seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting at irregular intervals. Sometimes it remained motionless for what felt like weeks. At other times, it pulsed dozens of times within a few minutes. There was no sun, moon, or stars. Only that endless, diseased surface resembling the skin of a creature too large to be perceived as alive.

So he had created his own method.

He counted steps.

Carved marks into the sword’s handle.

He slept only after repeating aloud his name, his origin, the reason he was there, and everything he remembered about the Nine Realms. When he woke, he did the same before standing. He could not allow that place to dissolve his memories as it had dissolved parts of his weapon.

If his calculations still meant anything, six months had passed.

Six months walking across black plains, lakes that imitated faces, forests whose trees whispered in familiar voices, and stone corridors that appeared from nowhere only to lead him back to the same place. Six months avoiding everything that looked like food, water, or shelter. Six months breaking reflections that insisted on speaking to him with his own face.

The phrase remained in his mind.

"Another Heir has arrived."

Frey tightened his grip around the broken sword.

He did not know who had said it. He did not know what heir meant, nor why the presence had called him that. What he knew was that, since the voice had spoken, the reflections had become more aggressive. Before, they had merely watched. Then they began smiling, talking, and trying to convince him to remain near lakes, mirrors, or shining surfaces.

He destroyed all of them.

Some shattered like glass.

Others bled.

One continued speaking even after being split into dozens of pieces.

"Another Heir has arrived."

Frey closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"My name is Frey. I am a Vanir. Twin brother of Freya. Lord of fertility, harvest, summer, and light. I entered through a passage near Helheim. I was used to open something. I am alive."

The final part was the hardest to repeat.

He was still alive.

He needed to believe that.

Frey opened his eyes and continued across the plain. The black ground was smooth in some regions, but in that area low vegetation had begun growing between narrow cracks. Small gray stalks grew in clusters, covered in transparent fruit that pulsed whenever he passed nearby.

His stomach contracted.

The pain of hunger had surpassed discomfort long ago. It had become a constant, deep presence that affected his thoughts and made even those repulsive things seem tempting. As a god connected to life and fertility, he could normally sustain his body through the natural energy around him. There, however, nature was wrong. Everything he tried to absorb carried something hidden with it, a kind of intent attempting to enter his soul along with the energy.

Frey stopped in front of one of the fruits.

Its transparent surface slowly opened.

There was an eye inside.

The eye had the same color as Freya’s.

"Frey," the fruit whispered.

He crushed the plant beneath his boot.

The stalk released a sound resembling a moan and dissolved into gray liquid. The other plants leaned toward him, repeating his name in different voices.

Frey resumed walking without looking at them.

"I left a fissure in Helheim. I hope the Valkyries find it."

He pressed his free hand against his stomach and looked toward the vegetation spread across the plain.

"I cannot rely on hope. I need to leave this place by myself."

One of the plants opened another fruit.

This time, the face inside belonged to Freya.

Frey looked away.

"I am starving, but I will not eat anything from here."

His sister’s voice came from every direction.

"You were always stubborn."

He continued walking.

"You are alone."

Frey quickened his pace.

"No one found the fissure."

"Shut up."

"The passage closed."

"Shut up."

"Freya gave up."

Frey turned and struck the vegetation with the broken sword.

Golden light exploded from the blade, burning hundreds of plants and opening a line of destruction across the plain. The effort made his legs give way. Frey fell onto one knee, rested the sword against the ground, and breathed with difficulty while energy left his body.

The light had consumed another part of the metal.

Only a handspan of blade remained.

He looked at the weapon and released a dry laugh.

"Excellent."

The burned vegetation continued writhing. Faces appeared in the ashes, all smiling at him.

Frey stood again.

He would not remain in that place longer than necessary. He had already broken the space of that dimension four times. The first attempt had taken him to a corridor of closed doors. The second had thrown him before the lake of reflections. The third had shown him a region where thousands of faceless figures walked in circles. The fourth had been different.

On the fourth, he had seen Helheim.

For less than a second, but he had seen it.

A dark wall. Snow. A bridge covered in souls. And on the opposite side of the opening, something enormous had tried to cross with him.

Frey closed the fissure before the creature passed.

He lost half the sword in the process.

That vision was the only proof that his route still existed. Perhaps the fissure had left a scar on the other side. Perhaps the Valkyries would notice. Perhaps Hela would notice.

But hope was dangerous there.

The place listened.

It used expectations to build better lies.

Frey raised his face toward the gray sky and continued walking. His steps were slow but deliberate. Guilt weighed more heavily than his body. He still did not understand exactly how he had allowed it to happen, but he remembered the beginning. The incomplete passage. The strange energy. The feeling that someone was trapped on the other side. He had believed he could help.

He touched the fissure.

Gave it enough life to open.

Everything else had been a consequence.

"This shit is my fault," he murmured. "So I am going to close it myself."

The sky breathed above him.

And, far away, something answered with silent laughter.

...

Hela was seated on Helheim’s throne when the dark surface before her opened. Seris’s magic formed a circle in the air, revealing the Witch Queen surrounded by shelves, grimoires, and an absurd amount of paper.

Seris did not even attempt to greet her.

"Vergil stole the Bifröst."

Hela became still.

"He also took Mjölnir, Gjallarhorn, and approximately twelve thousand Valkyries."

Hela blinked twice.

Then she started laughing.

The laughter came out so loudly that the cold flames along the columns grew and several souls crossing the hall stopped to look. Hela bent forward over the throne, holding her stomach while trying to breathe.

"He stole what?"

"The Bifröst."

"And Mjölnir?"

"Yes."

"Gjallarhorn?"

"That too."

"And the Valkyries?"

"Almost all of them."

Hela struck the arm of the throne and started laughing again, now with tears running from her eyes.

"I do not believe it. Odin’s face must be wonderful."

"He probably wants to tear someone’s head off."

"When I see Vergil, I am going to offer him all of Helheim."

Seris raised an eyebrow.

"The entire realm?"

"The throne, the routes, the dead, and anything else he wants."

"Anything?"

Hela spread her legs slightly wider on the throne, resting her face against one hand with an indecent smile.

"Anything."

Seris moved her face closer to the projection.

"Are you talking about the realm or your virginity?"

"Both."

"How generous."

"My chastity became very cheap after he humiliated Odin like that."

Seris laughed.

"You are a hidden slut."

"I am a virgin, not innocent."

"That explains the enthusiasm."

Hela tilted her head back, still smiling.

"I would give him children until the universe ended."

"You do not even know the limits of his stamina."

"He faced Odin, stole the Bifröst, and left carrying Mjölnir. I do not think stamina will be a problem."

Seris released a short laugh.

"You are already imagining too much."

"I am imagining enough."

Hela began laughing again as she thought about Asgard’s situation.

"All the Valkyries left. Thor lost the hammer. Heimdall lost the bridge and the horn. Odin lost control of nearly everything."

"Yes."

"Vergil pulled their pants down without even realizing it."

"That comparison was strange."

"But accurate."

Hela raised her arms, completely radiant.

"I would give that man my pussy until I forgot how to close my legs."

One of Helheim’s guards looked toward the wall.

Seris discreetly ran her tongue over her lip, amused.

"You are offering a lot to someone who does not even know he is going to marry you."

"He will find out."

"And if he refuses?"

Hela smiled.

"Then I offer more souls."

"You intend to buy his cock with the dead?"

"If it works, yes."

Seris placed one hand against her chest.

"Romantic."

"Practical."

When the laughter diminished, Hela leaned toward the projection.

"When is he coming to Helheim?"

"I do not know. Odin injured him."

Hela’s smile immediately disappeared.

"Badly?"

"Gungnir struck both his body and soul. Freya said he is resting."

Hela tightened her fingers against the throne.

"That old man should have accepted the humiliation in silence."

"Vergil stole Asgard’s most important structure."

"So what?"

Seris stared at her.

Hela sighed.

"Fine. Perhaps Odin had some reason."

"Some."

"But he should not have injured my future husband."

"Neither you nor he agreed to that title."

"Details."

Hela crossed her legs again.

"Can he heal with souls?"

"Probably."

"Then I will give him one hundred thousand."

Seris fell silent.

"One hundred thousand souls?"

"So he can recover."

"You speak as though you were sending a basket of fruit."

"I can put them in a basket if he likes."

Seris laughed again.

"You really want to impress him."

"I want him healthy enough to leave me unable to walk."

"And you said you were a virgin."

"I still am. For now."

Seris rested her chin against one hand.

"Perhaps I should go with him to observe."

Hela narrowed her eyes.

"Observe?"

"I am a scholar."

"Study from a distance."

"Jealous."

"Virgin, slutty, and jealous."

"At least you are honest."

Hela became serious again.

"Tell me when he wakes. If he has the Bifröst and Brynhildr has Gjallarhorn, we can open the routes without Heimdall."

"That is the idea."

"I will also prepare the Valkyries who remain here."

Seris frowned.

"How many still answer?"

"Less than half of the three thousand. The others did not die, but disappeared along the ancient routes."

"It may be connected to Frey."

"Probably."

Hela’s excitement diminished.

"I want to help find him."

"Vergil wants that too."

"Then make sure he rests."

"I will tell Viviane about the one hundred thousand souls."

"Tell her one hundred and fifty thousand."

Seris smiled.

"Are you increasing the number to compensate for your virginity?"

"I am increasing it because Odin injured the man I want between my legs."

"You truly lost all shame."

"Shame does not recover an injured husband."

The projection began to close.

Seris pointed toward Hela.

"When he arrives, try not to immediately talk about your pussy."

Hela tilted her head.

"Why?"

"To pretend you have dignity."

"I am a queen. Dignity means saying what I want without anyone stopping me."

Seris could not contain her laughter.

"Fair."

The communication ended.

Hela continued smiling at the empty space for several seconds. One of the guards finally gathered enough courage to speak.

"My Queen, should we prepare the one hundred and fifty thousand souls?"

Hela rested her face against one hand.

"Yes. And if he is still injured, separate another fifty thousand."

"Yes, my Queen."

Hela started laughing by herself again, imagining Odin standing inside an Asgard without the Bifröst, without Mjölnir, and without Valkyries.

"What a wonderful man. I feel completely renewed," she said before looking down. "I am going to exercise. It is time to make this little body even more sensual."

She rose from the throne.

"Damn, I am so fucking happy," Hela said with a smile. "Should I visit my older sister and tell her the news?"

Hela considered Jörmungandr.

"Nah. She can be a snake when she wants to. She will try to steal him from me," she admitted.