Chapter 864

After a slow, awkward trek through the strange passage, Evenson finally reached the person at the center of the whole affair.

Given how complicated the situation was, he had no intention of casually stepping into Hela’s domain. Instead, he opened a portal and established a connection between the two sides.

The result was a room divided almost perfectly in half.

One side was bathed in warm sunlight, representing the living world.

The other was the eternal darkness of Hel.

Hela sat beyond that boundary, imposing and utterly regal upon a throne assembled from black swords. Her horned helmet framed a face tilted slightly upward, radiating arrogance. A broad, dark-green cloak concealed most of her body, adding an almost impenetrable air of mystery.

The pride of a goddess.

The authority of a queen.

The unknowable majesty of death itself.

All of it came together in one woman—

Burp.

...It would have been considerably more impressive without that last part.

Evenson quietly turned his head away.

Whatever divine aura Hela had possessed, he was fairly certain he would never be able to develop genuine religious faith in her again.

The others suddenly became extremely interested in the wooden floor beneath their feet.

Perhaps they were studying the type of wood.

Perhaps they were counting the number of wormholes.

Nobody seemed particularly eager to make eye contact.

After several seconds of painful silence, Evenson finally scratched his head.

"So... long time no see."

"Yes. It has been a long time."

Hela’s expression stiffened as she desperately tried to recover the dignity she had so painstakingly assembled.

Then, with remarkable composure, she produced a bottle of water and drained it in one go.

"Well..."

Both of them had prepared plenty of things they wanted to say.

Unfortunately, the awkward beginning had destroyed all momentum.

So Evenson desperately searched for something else to talk about.

"By the way, did you like the toys I sent last time?"

He was referring to the lunatics from the Scepter of Sargeras incident.

Nastron and his followers had been determined to overthrow the gods. They had also sincerely believed that they were destined to become gods of death and destruction.

Evenson had decided to help them achieve their dreams.

He had simply delivered the entire group straight to Hela’s prison.

In a sense, they had gotten exactly what they wanted.

"Hmm..." Hela leaned slightly against her throne. "They were entertaining."

She remembered their arrival quite clearly.

Evenson had dumped the entire group into Hel, but Hela had been some distance away at the time. The moment she sensed their arrival, she realized that the "package of complimentary toys" Evenson had mentioned had finally arrived.

By the time she reached the site to inspect her new acquisitions, however, the group had already gathered together.

Their apparent leader was standing in front of the others, delivering an impassioned speech.

The gods are taking our world from us! Now that we have reached the realm of the gods, we will defeat them and become gods of death and destruction!

Hela had listened from the shadows.

Wait. You’re becoming gods of death?

Then what exactly am I supposed to be?

She hadn’t actually been offended.

The spectacle was simply too amusing.

Besides, she finally had some toys to play with. Killing them all immediately would have been a waste.

So Hela had personally created what could only be described as a death match in Hel.

And to encourage competition, she had offered the winner an especially generous prize:

A bucket of chicken-and-mushroom noodles.

One bucket per person.

That conversation had done wonders for breaking the tension.

Just as they were finally preparing to discuss the real matter at hand, Sif suddenly spoke.

"Evenson, who exactly is this woman? Aren’t you going to introduce her?"

Sif had already reached her own conclusion.

The mysterious woman before her was the same woman depicted standing beside Odin in that ancient mural.

The proportions in the painting might have been distorted over the years, but Sif’s gaze settled firmly on Hela’s helmet.

There was no mistaking that thing.

The Nine Realms couldn’t possibly contain two helmets that obnoxious.

Which naturally made Sif even more curious.

Who exactly was this woman?

Someone who had once possessed extraordinary power and status, yet had somehow vanished from Asgardian history?

"This is..."

Evenson cleared his throat and delivered the explanation he had prepared.

"This is Hela, eldest daughter of Odin and Frigga. Crown Princess of Asgard and Goddess of Death."

"During the rise of Asgard, she led armies beside Odin across countless campaigns and rendered tremendous service to the realm. Her achievements eventually became so great that there was supposedly nothing left to reward her with, and nothing left to grant her."

"After much discussion, Odin allowed her to establish her own domain and rule it as a sovereign. She has remained in Hel ever since."

Sigrun and Hela both raised an eyebrow.

That was some impressive verbal gymnastics.

Evenson had somehow taken Odin’s daughter became so powerful and influential that he feared her, crushed her rebellion, and imprisoned her and transformed it into an elegant story about a decorated princess being granted her own kingdom.

"Is that really how it happened?" Sif asked, sounding only partially convinced. "Then how did you meet her?"

"During the Dark Elf invasion, remember? I left with Thor and the others through one of Loki’s secret passages."

Evenson smiled awkwardly.

"You know how lucky I am."

Sif’s expression suggested that she absolutely did not.

"So..."

"My luck is very good," Evenson continued. "The ship I was traveling in just happened to crash into a mountain."

Sif stared at him.

"Naturally."

"One thing led to another, and I ended up passing through the secret passage into the eldest princess’s domain."

"Oh."

Sif nodded slowly.

"Then if she was once so powerful and accomplished, why does nobody in Asgard talk about her? Why does almost no one even know she existed? And why isn’t there a single statue commemorating her?"

"Ah..."

Evenson sighed.

"She’s the Goddess of Death."

He spoke with solemn regret.

"During wartime, everyone prayed for the Goddess of Death to bring destruction upon their enemies."

"But once the war ended and peace returned, people naturally stopped worshipping death. Suddenly they wanted gods of life, prosperity, good harvests, and peaceful weather."

"They abandoned the Goddess of Death."

"Then, since she spent most of her time ruling her own domain and rarely returned to Asgard, people gradually forgot about her."

Hela and Sigrun silently watched Evenson fabricate the most shameless explanation either of them had heard in years.

Sif considered it.

"But even if that’s true, Odin wouldn’t have hidden a portrait of his own daughter. And he certainly wouldn’t have killed everyone who saw it."

Evenson froze.

His eyes drifted toward Hela.

Hela responded with an expression that clearly said:

This is your problem. Keep talking.

"Well..."

Evenson took a moment.

"This touches upon certain matters involving Odin’s personal concerns and the responsibilities of kingship."

He raised one hand and adopted what he hoped was a suitably profound expression.

"Parents naturally want their children to succeed. But Odin wasn’t merely a father. He was the king of Asgard."

"A king wouldn’t necessarily want the entire realm celebrating the accomplishments of a legitimate heir whose ability and reputation rivaled—or even surpassed—his own."

"And although the eldest princess achieved extraordinary things, her campaigns also left her hands stained with blood. She truly was a Goddess of Death, bringing destruction to Asgard’s enemies."

"If Odin intended to present himself as a benevolent ruler, he couldn’t exactly leave mountains of corpses and rivers of blood lying around as evidence."

Hela remained silent.

Sigrun, however, looked deeply troubled.

Because the blood on Odin’s hands had never belonged to Hela alone.

The Valkyries had also fought beneath his banner.

And when Odin sent the Valkyrie corps against Hela after she had already fallen into his trap, he had effectively sent them to their deaths.

Two blades had carried the blood.

Those same two blades were then buried along with the evidence.

From that point forward, Odin could present himself as the benevolent king untouched by war.

The king is innocent. The blame belongs to everyone else.

How could Sigrun, who had lived through those events herself, not feel bitter?

"I see."

Sif nodded.

Ever since she had witnessed Odin ordering people killed to conceal the truth, she had understood that the All-Father’s public image of mercy and benevolence wasn’t the whole story.

"But I have one more question."

How many questions do you have?!

Evenson’s temple throbbed.

For a moment, he wondered whether Sif had somehow discovered the legendary art of asking three thousand questions.

He took a deep breath.

Slowly exhaled.

"Go ahead."

"If she was granted her own territory, then surely she had a responsibility to defend the royal family."

Sif looked directly at Hela.

"Yet Loki rebelled, and later the Dark Elves invaded. Why didn’t she send even a single soldier to help?"

Sif had begun to believe some of Evenson’s explanation.

She had even developed a measure of sympathy for Hela, the supposedly forgotten hero who had been pushed aside by Asgard.

But her position remained clear.

Asgard was currently ruled by the Queen Mother, and Thor was expected to inherit the throne.

Yet a powerful sovereign existed beyond Asgard’s borders whose claim to the throne supposedly ranked above Thor’s.

How could anyone possibly feel safe with that arrangement?

And when Asgard had suffered not one, but two major crises, Hela hadn’t come to its aid.

That was suspicious.

What if Thor ascended the throne, only for Hela to suddenly raise an army, declare that she was restoring order, seize the Golden Palace, and force Thor to fake his own death and flee?

"Well?"

Sif narrowed her eyes.

"Looks like you’ve run out of answers."

Evenson was still considering whether he should explain the old principle that a ruler stationed far from the capital might exercise considerable autonomy, or perhaps tell some story about a commander who had been ruined because of royal suspicion—

When a mocking laugh came from across the room.

"Why bother dressing it up?"

Hela’s voice carried unmistakable amusement.

Her helmet dissolved, revealing long dark hair. The mocking expression on her face made her seem considerably less mysterious and considerably more dangerous.

"Pleasant lies may sound better, but they’re still lies. I don’t care for them."

She rose slightly from her throne.

"I am Hela. First heir to Asgard. Commander of the Einherjar and the rightful military heir of Asgard."

"I followed Odin through countless wars and helped establish Asgard’s supremacy across the Nine Realms."

"Odin and I both sought dominion."

She smiled.

"Father simply drew his sword before I did."

Sif blinked.

"Oh."

That suddenly made everything much easier to understand.

So the whole "carved out a kingdom and became an independent sovereign" story really meant:

Daughter tried to overthrow Dad. Dad won and locked her away.

Sif slowly turned toward Evenson.

"Is that what happened?"

"Basically..."

Evenson rubbed his forehead.

I’m trying to save you here.

He had spent all that effort making Hela sound respectable, and she had immediately torn the entire explanation apart.

There was nothing wrong with being honest.

There was nothing wrong with admitting unpleasant truths.

But did she really have to personally confess to every crime?

And why complain about people being too polite?

If you’re going to be a king, you need a little political spin.

"Then..."

Sif cautiously increased the distance between herself and Evenson.

"If you knew she was a rebel who was exiled after launching an uprising, why would you associate with her?"

"Isn’t that obvious?"

Hela gave a soft, amused snort.

"He’s my first chosen. Naturally, he intends to place the throne of Asgard in my hands."

"Is that true?"

Sif looked back at Evenson.

"You saved the Queen Mother’s life. Thor considers you a friend. Do you really intend to support this rebel and put her on the throne?"

Would you believe me if I said no?

Evenson shrugged.

"Does whom I support really matter?"

He glanced between them.

"Whoever eventually sits on Asgard’s throne has already been decided."

His answer was vague enough to be dangerous.

Sif, however, interpreted it differently.

She seemed to conclude that Evenson had already decided Hela would eventually become queen.

"How can you be so certain?"

"Because the law and tradition recognize her as the first heir?"

"Can you please stop talking about laws and traditions?"

Hela’s expression soured.

"I hate those things."

"You would."

Sif immediately fired back.

"Because according to Asgardian law and tradition, the moment you rebelled, you lost your claim to the throne."

"Thor is now the only legitimate heir."

"The same Thor who was still wetting the bed at a hundred?"

Hela sneered.

"The prince who looks more like a princess than I do whenever he puts on a dress?"

She folded her arms.

"I certainly didn’t think he was going to become king when I was changing his diapers."

Sif’s eyes widened in outrage.

Then, despite herself, another thought slipped into her mind.

Did you keep any pictures of Thor in that dress?

Could I get one?

She quickly buried the thought.

Hela’s expression suddenly hardened.

"No."

She straightened, the mockery disappearing from her face.

"I hate laws and traditions precisely because they claim to have given me the right to be first in line."

"I am supposedly destined to inherit this vast kingdom because I was born Odin’s daughter."

"Is that really why?"

"No."

Her voice grew colder.

"When I was born from Frigga’s womb, Asgard was nowhere near as powerful as it is today. The Nine Realms had not yet bowed to us. Asgard had not yet become a power capable of making the wider universe fear its name."

"This kingdom was built by soldiers."

"It was built by blood."

"I was the spearhead."

"Battle by battle, campaign by campaign, I carved out Asgard’s dominion with my own hands. I let the blood of our enemies stain entire worlds."

"I wanted power. I made my decision. Then I fought for it."

"I went to war. I crushed our enemies. I built a reputation that rivaled Odin’s."

Her eyes narrowed.

"And my ambition was greater than his."

"So when the law and tradition declared me the first heir, I was furious."

"How dare they reduce everything I had accomplished to a title they simply handed me?"

"I would inherit Asgard."

"That much was never in doubt."

"Not because some law or tradition granted me the right."

"Because I earned it."

"With my own strength."

"With my own two feet."

"I walked this path myself."

She clenched a fist.

"Even now, after everything that has happened to me, I have never regretted it."

Hela abruptly rose from her throne.

"So I will never acknowledge that little whelp as my king."

The air seemed to tighten around her.

"Asgard is a kingdom built by the strong."

"The transfer of power has always been accompanied by blood."

"Odin became king because he drew his spear before Bor did."

"And he remains king today because he drew his weapon before I did."

Her eyes settled on Sif.

"So don’t stand there and lecture me about tradition and law."

"This is Asgard’s true tradition."

"This is Asgard’s true law."

"If Thor wants the throne, then his own blood will tell him what he needs to do."

Then, suddenly, Hela smiled.

"Though, as a favor to my little brother..."

She gave a small laugh.

"Tell him not to throw his hammer at me."