Chapter 174
Chapter 174
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 174
Chapter Title: Freyja
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*
The wind blew, and petals floated lightly into the air. In a space utterly divorced from the forge, the furnace, and the blistering heat of the smelter, a cool breeze gently caressed Fernandez's cheek. The sweet scent of flowers bloomed thickly.
Soon, the woman's appearance shifted. More voluptuous, yet at the same time astonishingly pure. Her large eyes, brimming with the faintest tears, and the lithe form clearly visible beneath her flowing white garments seized his gaze with dizzying allure.
[Well, what do you think now? Doesn't that madness, that violence, all those brutish impulses men harbor inside settle down a bit?]
The woman grinned triumphantly. Even that playful smile formed a perfect symmetry, her pearly white teeth gleaming in neat rows like a living painting. If there existed an artist capable of capturing perfect beauty in its entirety, they would depict her and the flower-strewn grass enveloping her.
But instead of answering, Fernandez cleaved through the sewer pipe blocking his path. With a crunch, the steel pipe tore apart, and black steam hissed forth.
[What? Why on earth... My form perfectly matches the common aesthetic ideals of humans right now... That can't be. You're trying to harm me?]
-Crunch.
Another pipe ripped free, creating space for Fernandez to squeeze through. Amid the acrid metallic stench, the fresh floral fragrance mingled discordantly, tickling his nose.
[Stop! Don't come any closer! Just look at me! I'll try a different form. I can do lots of things. I'm useful, I tell you!]
-Crunch.
Now a space wide enough for a person to pass comfortably was cleared, and Fernandez sheathed his greatsword before forcing his way through. The metallic shing sent chills rippling through the air.
[I can't die like this! You, you're from the south, aren't you? Chivalry! What about chivalry? You mean to strike down a helpless woman?]
The grass crunched softly under his boots. It felt entirely different from the solid steel plates he'd trod moments before, confirming to Fernandez that this was no illusion.
The only one manifesting illusions or illusion-like phenomena here was that witch. Amid his dark hair, blue glints shone fiercely from his eyes.
With enough room to swing his blade, Fernandez placed his hand on the hilt and slowly drew it. It seemed the woman could only cast illusions on herself, so there was no need to rush.
The light from the smelter struck his back, casting a long shadow that engulfed the woman's form. She trembled and looked up at him.
The killing intent of a reincarnator carried more weight than time itself. Fernandez gazed down at her with calm hatred. It was the intent of the man who had broken even the god of death—and who had beheld the end of the world.
In Fernandez's form, the woman beheld a certain kind of darkness. An abyss lit only by those blue eyes. A bottomless pit swirling with the hatred and madness of a mass murderer stood before her.
[Y-you monster. Don't you have any feeling for love?]
"It existed."
-Shing...
The emotion you dredged up and mangled once more.
The blade rose with a clear ring. Tears in her eyes, the woman squeezed them shut. At that moment, a clap echoed. Fernandez froze, sword in hand, and turned toward the sound.
From his right, Loft clapped while chuckling wickedly.
"That's it! Hahaha, I can't remember the last time I saw that look on your face!"
[You...! You clown! So this human is your lackey? Where did you find a twisted, madness-soaked, cruel bastard like you?]
"Oh... More like a partner than a lackey. My little sister. And talking so harshly—I'm quite hurt. Don't families usually exchange greetings after so long apart? Well now...]
[Who’s your family? You're a Jotun, and I'm a Vanir!]
"Your mother was a Jotun, so strictly speaking by blood, I'm your uncle... But didn't we agree a thousand years ago not to dwell on that anymore, Vanadis? Ahaha... Oh dear, rejected by family—how heartbreaking...]
Loft trailed off, then whispered to Fernandez.
"Finish what you started, friend. Looks like I led you astray!"
[W-wait!]
The woman cried out in panic. Watching the scene, Fernandez lowered his sword. The taut tension eased, his killing intent softening. He scowled at Loft.
"Are you messing with me?"
"Oh ho, as if. Calm down, my friend, and take a look. That frail girl is half of Einherjar. And the esteemed one who'll open the door for us!"
[Tell your beast to put the sword away right now!]
"Oh my. Vanadis. Would it do for us to fear a mere sword?"
Fernandez frowned and sheathed his greatsword. The atmosphere was hardly ripe for slaughter, and besides, the woman didn't seem to be a devil or their follower. His first impression was the worst, but if she proved useful, he could rein in his emotions.
Watching this, the woman sniffled.
[Y-you beasts. You monsters. How did I end up like this... Stupid dwarves, stupid elves. All the useless ones are gone...]
"Vanadis, ahaha, shouldn't you take that up with Odin? Speaking of which, which Aesir are currently in the material world?"
[Why should I tell you?]
"Because not just the Aesir or Midgard, but all you Vanir are on the brink of annihilation?"
Loft shrugged, and the woman glared at him, growling. The golden chains on her arms and neck clinked softly. She stared at them for a moment, then bowed her head.
[What can I do in this state... Fine, alright. Among those Aesir idiots... Tyr and Baldr, I suppose. Baldr's attached to the human king, and Tyr wanders about.]
"Human king? Hmm... That young pup Eric?"
[He calls himself 'Black' or something? Yeah, that's the one.]
"Baldr, ha! The god of purity and innocence doing the serpent's bidding so eagerly. This just got interesting."
Loft clapped and cackled. Fernandez frowned at the woman.
"How do we trust her?"
"At least Vanadis hasn't fallen. She slipped away before the corruption. And at the very least, she knows everything about the meadows and life blooming in this north. In exchange for that seal."
[Exactly! If you don't trust me, why'd you come looking, human!]
The woman straightened proudly and laughed. She tilted her head and eyed Loft.
[No matter how I looked, I couldn't see a way to stop Ragnarok. I remember you heading south to investigate too... What did you find to come back with?]
"Hmm... No, I got captured too."
[Men are all utterly useless.]
The woman sighed heavily. She shook her head, gazing at Loft with pitiful eyes.
[So what now?]
"What else? We do what we can until we can't—less regret that way. This friend'll lend a hand."
[This little human?]
"Not shaking like a leaf anymore?"
[Who said I was shaking!]
The woman grumbled and turned to Fernandez. She cleared her throat with a hem and swept her hair behind her ear. Flawless golden curls cascaded like a canopy.
[Well, human. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Freyja. Goddess of perfection, beauty, life, birth, and many... other beautiful things. Half of Einherjar swore fealty to me, and I am the protector of all shieldmaidens and Valkyries. Consider this meeting an honor.]
She beamed triumphantly and extended her hand. Her pale, slender fingers twitched in the air invitingly. Fernandez stared blankly, so she withdrew awkwardly.
[Don't southerners know how to shake hands?]
"What good is she to us, Loft?"
"Despite appearances, every meadow and flower bud across the northern continent is Vanadis's eye, and every breeze mingled with a child's breath is her ear. In this north, no one holds more information than Vanadis... except Odin with his Hugin."
"Useful."
[Is that how you treat a goddess!]
She growled at Fernandez. He smirked and drew his greatsword. Startled, the goddess flinched back, and the blade whistled through the space.
-Shing.
The edge shattered the golden chains. The goddess stared dazedly, frozen.
[You cut Brisingamen...? The dwarves made this?]
"If you knew what else this human's severed in the south, you'd faint. Don't underestimate him. He's the wolf I chose."
Loft snickered. Fernandez strode forward, hoisted Freyja onto his shoulder with one hand.
"Next?"
"Baldr. If he's with Eric, we're in business. Find out where Thor and Odin are from him, and this war ends. Let's head back first—your amusing friends will help."
Loft chuckled and led the way.
*
The victory feast unfolded around a meager bonfire, but it was lively enough. Hazat Palan's warriors guzzled rough liquor, roasted dried meat over the flames, laughed, and shouted.
Among them, Kirhas eyed Zephys and the inquisitors with unease. Not being of the Holy Pantheon of Good Gods, she worried they might suddenly rampage to purge heretics.
"Sister, where is our saint brother?"
"He left to crush the heretics allied with devils himself. He said he'd strike while we pinned the enemy here."
"Hm... Decapitation strike. Always an effective tactic. Alone?"
"He took a few warriors from this tribe... but yes, effectively solo."
"To the east of here?"
As Fabiano shot to his feet, Kirhas nodded. He turned to Zephys and called out brightly.
"Isn't this what the abbot meant, brother? Let's depart at once!"
"No, we observe for now."
"Yes?"
Zephys surveyed the warriors raising toasts. Larger and hardier than southern regulars, but the enemy was the same.
Fernandez leaving Kirhas and Abel behind. He wouldn't abandon the chapter house sisters as bait and flee, so this place was his base.
All field agents had habits—preferences in mission planning. Analyzing reports so far, especially from the great wilderness, pointed to Fernandez favoring solid base-building and macro-level strangulation of enemy lifelines.
Less inquisitorial tactics, more warlord strategy. Zephys wasn't a military expert, but long managing Demonica gave him insight into Fernandez's tactical leanings.
"Sister Kirhas, is this area fully secure?"
"No... brother. Today's skirmish wasn't their main force. The enemy wages unification war on this north with unprecedented hordes. Silver Fang... no, Brother Fernandez said devils lurk behind them, and if they win unification, they'll march south."
"So he left to end the war before that."
Zephys nodded. Enemy numbers unknown, but a demon-mixed host descending south would be catastrophe, even if repelled.
In war-torn civilization, northern devils infiltrating would doom the eastern kingdom alliance's fragile rebuilding. Even small demon incidents could torch a grand duchy.
Corruption spreads like ink in a water glass. Once stained, it can't be purified. Inquisitors opted for total incineration, and accumulated incidents led to civilizational decline and inevitable doom.
'Abbot, this warranted deploying all Demonica forces.'
Zephys frowned in silence. Demons fighting amid crowds in broad daylight was rare—proof of northern rot.
Information gathering first. Contacting on-site agents was inquisitorial basics. Rather than chase the unpredictable Fernandez, Zephys aligned with his grand strategy.
"We wait here for the brother."
"But saint brother might be in danger!"
"Too late to catch up now. Brother Fabiano. Better to guard these folk and await his return."
Zephys sipped from his canteen. Even Demonica needed rest; they'd sailed three days straight, landed, and fought nonstop.
-Preeeeech!
Then, a long horn blared from the harbor. Kirhas's ears twitched. She gripped her hilt and stood.
"Someone's approaching the harbor!"
It might be Fernandez. Kirhas dashed toward the port.