Chapter 880: The Queen of Helheim

Gjallarhorn was not merely an instrument used to announce wars or summon Asgard’s armies. That was its most famous function, the one that appeared in stories repeated by mortals and in the official records of the Norse pantheon, but the horn possessed far more specific uses. It had been created to transmit a signature through Yggdrasil’s routes, ignoring distance, spiritual obstacles, and part of the barriers between the Nine Realms. When sounded by Heimdall, it could alert all of Asgard, call the gods, awaken the Einherjar, and mark a passage for the Bifröst. In the hands of a Valkyrie commander, however, the artifact functioned differently.

Brynhildr could use Gjallarhorn to locate her sisters.

The call did not search for bodies or energy. It sought the bond built among the Valkyries over ages of service, a recognition so deep that even an unconscious warrior could respond. The sound also crossed the roads of the dead and, when properly directed, revealed the approximate position of lost souls, blocked passages, and units trapped beyond Helheim’s authority.

The problem was that Gjallarhorn amplified every response.

And the voice that had just called for Freya did not belong to a Valkyrie.

"Freya..."

It crossed the mist again, weaker, but carried by a living signature. It was not a perfect reproduction. There was distortion, overlapping noise, and a strange sensation around the words, as though something were trying to imitate a man’s throat without fully understanding how a voice was produced.

Even so, Vergil recognized part of the presence.

It was similar to what had been found inside the ring.

Light, harvest, warmth, and life being compressed by a region where none of those things should exist.

It was probably Frey.

Or something using a part of him.

Brynhildr kept Gjallarhorn away from her lips and looked toward Vergil.

"Did you feel it?"

"Yes."

"Is it him?"

"Part of the signature belongs to Frey."

Göll tightened both hands around her sword. "Then did we find him?"

"No."

The direct answer diminished some of her enthusiasm.

Vergil returned his attention to the mist beneath the bridge.

"The call found something connected to him. It could be Frey himself, a torn memory, part of his energy, or a creature using the bond to lure Freya."

The voice did not repeat itself.

That was more concerning than if it had continued calling. A simple imitation would have insisted. Whatever it was seemed to have realized it had fooled no one and chosen silence before revealing more information.

Brynhildr secured Gjallarhorn across her back.

"We can try following the response."

"Not without preparation."

"My sisters are there."

"And they will remain there while we discover how to enter without disappearing as well."

Göll looked toward the bridge and then at Vergil. "But if it was Frey, he may be injured."

"He probably is."

"Then we need to hurry."

"Running without knowing the direction is a good way to become lost faster."

Göll opened her mouth, but Brynhildr placed one hand over her head.

"He is right."

The young Valkyrie pressed her lips together. She did not like the answer, but accepted it. Vergil realized Göll was not reckless because she lacked intelligence. She was simply incapable of separating concern from action. Whenever she felt someone was in danger, every second spent standing still felt like betrayal.

Experience could correct that.

"Was the call recorded inside the horn?" Vergil asked.

Brynhildr nodded. "Gjallarhorn preserves the direction, approximate distance, and signature of every response. Not for long, but long enough for us to analyze it."

"Then we will speak with Hela."

He looked around at the dead city.

"Where is the palace?"

Göll immediately raised one hand.

"I will take you!"

Brynhildr looked at her sister.

"Without running."

"I can run slowly."

"That does not exist for you."

"It does."

"The last time you said that, you crossed through three walls."

"They were fragile."

Vergil raised one finger again.

Göll stepped back twice and protected her waist with both hands.

"I can walk!"

"Good."

She seemed slightly disappointed that he would not place her on his shoulders again, but turned and began guiding them along the main road.

The route to Hela’s palace crossed regions that made Helheim’s precarious state even clearer. The buildings were large, made of dark stone and ancient metal, but almost all of them showed cracks, accumulated ice, or improvised repairs. Parts of some bridges had been replaced with spiritual platforms sustained by Hela’s authority. On others, souls had to divert through side routes because the original passages had collapsed.

It was not poverty in the mortal sense.

Helheim did not require crops, commerce, or housing for its dead inhabitants. The problem was structural. The administration had functioned with the bare minimum for ages, and now that minimum was failing. Without the Valkyries, the lines grew. Without reliable routes, souls remained motionless for days. Whenever a passage disappeared, there were not enough workers to investigate it while keeping the others operating.

Vergil saw three Valkyries trying to guide nearly two thousand souls across a narrow bridge. One maintained the barrier, another examined memories, and the third had to control the dead who tried returning along the wrong route.

"Were three thousand Valkyries not enough for this?" he asked.

Göll looked back while walking.

"They were before."

"What changed?"

"The routes began requiring more people. Some souls arrive twice. Others disappear after being registered. Dead people who do not belong to any of the Nine Realms are appearing on the lower bridges."

Brynhildr frowned. "Why was that not included in the reports sent to Asgard?"

Göll remained silent for several seconds.

"Hela sent them."

"And?"

"Odin ordered them classified as temporary instability."

Brynhildr’s expression became cold.

"Naturally."

Göll returned her gaze forward. "Doors also started appearing."

Vergil paid closer attention.

"How many?"

"We do not know. They vanish whenever someone tries to mark their position. Some appear in walls. Others in the middle of bridges. One appeared beneath Hela’s throne."

"Did anyone open one?"

"A soul tried."

"What happened?"

"It returned."

Göll hesitated.

"But it was no longer the same."

Brynhildr remained silent for several seconds. "Did Hela destroy it?"

"Yes. And ordered everyone not to touch any doors."

It was the correct decision, although probably a late one. If the passages could already appear inside the palace, then the interference was not limited to the outer regions.

Hela’s castle appeared after they crossed another valley. The structure was integrated into a black mountain, rising above the lower bridges like a fortress carved directly from stone. Great columns supported the entrance, chains hung from side towers, and two broken statues remained before the gates. Green flames burned inside metal braziers, producing a cold light that did not warm the surroundings.

It was not beautiful.

It was imposing.

The kind of palace created to survive, not impress.

As they approached, six Valkyries descended from the walls. All wore worn armor and carried signs of exhaustion. Two had injured wings. Another kept one arm bound by a spiritual bandage. Even so, they formed a line before the entrance and raised their weapons until they recognized Brynhildr.

Their expressions changed immediately.

"Commander?"

Brynhildr advanced.

"Lower your weapons."

All six obeyed. The first approached, looking at Brynhildr’s horns and sacred-demonic wings.

"What happened to you?"

"It is a long story."

Göll appeared beside her, incapable of keeping the information to herself.

"The plan worked! We betrayed Odin, stole Gjallarhorn, all the other sisters went to Sparda, the great boss stole the Bifröst, took Mjölnir from Thor, beat Thor, fought Odin, and transformed everyone into a new race!"

Silence fell immediately.

Brynhildr closed her eyes.

"I was going to explain it in a more organized manner."

One of the Valkyries looked at Gjallarhorn on her back.

Then at Vergil.

Then at Mjölnir secured at his waist.

"Is that truly Thor’s hammer?"

Mjölnir released a small spark.

All six stepped back half a pace.

Göll pointed toward the hammer enthusiastically. "She likes him."

"She?" another Valkyrie asked.

"Long story," Brynhildr said.

The leader of the guard still seemed unable to process everything. "Our sisters are free?"

"Yes."

"All of them?"

"Twelve thousand managed to leave Asgard. Some were injured, but they are safe in Sparda. They received homes, food, duties, and the choice of whether to continue as warriors."

The woman tightened her grip on the spear.

Her eyes became moist, although she tried to maintain her posture.

"Did Odin allow it?"

"No."

"Then how..."

Brynhildr looked toward Vergil.

The Valkyries followed her gaze.

"He ensured their withdrawal."

None of them needed more details.

One by one, they lowered their heads before him.

"Thank you."

The first spoke in a low but steady voice.

"For our sisters."

Another knelt.

"Thank you for giving them a place."

The others did the same.

Vergil observed all six for a moment. Their gratitude was different from what the Valkyries in Sparda had shown. These were still trapped in Helheim, watching companions disappear while Asgard ignored every request for help. Learning that thousands had escaped meant that, at least, the suffering would not continue for all of them.

"Stand," he said. "You are still missing."

They obeyed.

Brynhildr began explaining more clearly. She described the rebellion, Odin’s abandonment, the retreat to Sparda, the pact, and the transformation into Aethernox. She did not fully detail the fight against Thor and Odin, but Göll added comments whenever she believed an important part had been omitted.

"He caught Mjölnir with one hand."

"Göll."

"And struck Thor with his own hammer."

"Göll."

"Then Odin tried to kill him."

Brynhildr looked at her sister.

"Can you remain silent for one minute?"

Göll thought about it seriously.

"Maybe."

One of the palace’s inner doors opened.

Footsteps began echoing along the corridor.

Vergil turned his face.

The approaching presence was powerful, cold, and completely connected to that realm. The mist around the columns retreated, the green flames grew, and even the souls near the gates slowed their movements.

Hela appeared at the entrance.

Vergil already knew her through magical communication, but the image had not done justice to her true presence.

The Queen of Helheim had clearly prepared to receive him. She wore a tight black dress with green cuts and silver details that followed her waist, chest, and hips. The fabric ended in layers resembling shadows, sliding over the floor without making a sound. Her long dark hair was arranged over one shoulder, decorated with small silver chains, and a crown of black metal rested upon her head.

She was hot as fuck.

There was no more accurate way to summarize it.

Hela walked with the authority of a queen, but the smile on her face held absolutely nothing formal. Her eyes remained fixed on Vergil with a hungry, satisfied, and dangerously joyful intensity.

He opened his mouth.

He intended to compliment her.

He did not have time.

Hela disappeared from the entrance.

She appeared in front of him.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her body launched against his, and the Queen of Helheim kissed him like a desperate woman. There was no introduction, permission, or attempt to preserve royal dignity. She pressed her lips against his, hooked one leg around his waist, and deepened the kiss before Vergil finished understanding what was happening.

The Valkyries stood motionless.

Göll opened her mouth.

Brynhildr pressed two fingers against her forehead.

Vergil held Hela by the waist and tried to pull her away. She tightened her arms around his neck. He had to increase his strength, separate her body from his, and keep her suspended several inches above the ground.

Hela still tried leaning forward for another kiss.

Vergil extended his arm, holding her away.

"What the fuck was that?!"

She did not appear remotely regretful.

Hela remained suspended in his hands, the dress tight around her body and the seductive smile even wider. She slowly passed her tongue over her own lips as though trying to preserve the taste.

"Gratitude for what you did to Odin."

Vergil looked at her.

Then at Brynhildr.

The Valkyrie looked away.

"Do not involve me."

Göll raised one hand.

"She has been talking about it for hours."

Hela turned her head. "Göll."

The young Valkyrie immediately lowered her hand.

Vergil looked back at the queen.

"Do you kiss everyone who irritates Odin?"

"No."

Hela ran her hands along his arms, still prevented from drawing her body closer.

"Only handsome men who steal the Bifröst, free my Valkyries, humiliate Thor, and survive Gungnir."

"Specific criteria."

"You meet all of them."

Vergil released her.

Hela touched the ground with her feet and immediately tried approaching again, but he placed one hand against her forehead, keeping her at a safe distance.

She smiled.

"Are you shy?"

"I am trying to have a conversation."

"We can talk afterward."

"No."

"During?"

Vergil remained silent for one second.

Brynhildr turned her face away to hide a small smile.

Hela held his wrist, but did not try to remove his hand.

"You truly have no idea how happy you made me."

"Seris mentioned it."

"What did she tell you?"

"That you prepared souls."

Hela appeared slightly disappointed. "Only that?"

Göll began raising her hand again.

Brynhildr caught her wrist and lowered it.

"Only that," Vergil replied.

"Then Seris preserved part of my dignity."

"I doubt it."

Hela laughed and finally stepped back by choice.

Her expression became slightly more serious when she looked toward Gjallarhorn and the Valkyries around them.

"Did you hear any responses?"

Brynhildr nodded.

"Hundreds. We also found a signature that probably belongs to Frey."

Hela’s joy faded only enough to make room for attention.

"Where?"

"Along the routes beyond the northern bridge."

Vergil added, "Or inside something connected to them. We will not follow without analyzing it first."

Hela nodded. "Correct. Come inside. I have maps, records of the disappearances, and seven Valkyries who managed to return."

She looked toward Vergil again.

The seductive smile returned.

"I also have one hundred and fifty thousand souls prepared for you."

"I do not need that many."

"Then you can save the rest."

"Souls are not coins."

"Seris said the same thing."

"Because it is obvious."

Hela approached once more, this time without jumping.

"I also prepared a room."

Vergil raised an eyebrow.

"For resting," she added.

Göll murmured, "She ordered the bed changed three times."

"Göll," Hela and Brynhildr said at the same time.

The young Valkyrie covered her mouth.

Vergil released a sigh.

The visit to Helheim had begun only minutes earlier.

He had already found hundreds of missing Valkyries, a possible signature belonging to Frey, corrupted routes, and a Queen of the Dead who seemed determined to climb onto him whenever she had the opportunity.

Apparently, Sepphirothy had been wrong.

The chances of trouble in that realm were far higher than twenty percent.