Capítulo 642: Let’s make a deal with the goddess Freyja.
Freyja was silent for exactly one second.
Then she laughed.
It wasn’t a restrained, delicate, or polite laugh.
It was an open, clear, vibrant laugh—the kind of laugh that springs from the heart and spreads through the room like ripples in a pool. The sound echoed through the temple garden, making the flowers vibrate, the leaves tremble, and the water itself ripple in gentle circles.
She reflexively brought a hand to her mouth, her shoulders trembling slightly as she laughed genuinely—not out of irony, not out of disdain, but out of genuine surprise.
“Ah…” she said between laughs, taking a deep breath to catch her breath. “So that’s it.”
Freyja looked up at Vergil again, now with a different glint in her amber eyes. It wasn’t desire. It wasn’t provocation. It was pure curiosity—the rare attention of a goddess who had seen everything… and yet had just found sothing new.
“It’s been thousands of years,” she continued, still smiling, “thousands indeed… since soone looked at without trying to possess , without trying to resist , without trying to prove sothing to themselves.”
She tilted her head slightly, studying him as one observes an improbable phenonon.
“You didn’t look away.”
“You didn’t try to get closer.”
“You didn’t try to move away.”
Freyja’s smile widened even more.
“You simply… decided.”
Sapphire crossed her arms, clearly pleased.
“I told you he was different.”
Freyja turned to her, her eyes gleaming with genuine amusent.
“You did very well to bring him, Sapphire.” She said with a slight bow of her head—not submissive, but respectful. “I haven’t had this much fun since Loki still pretended to be trustworthy.”
Vergil blinked once.
“…Was that a complint?”
Freyja laughed again, now more softly.
“It was a gift.”
She placed her hands behind her back, leaning slightly back on the edge of the pool, letting the water ripple around her legs. “Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be constantly desired, feared, or idealized?”
Sapphire snorted.
“Yes. I do.”
“Of course you do,” Freyja replied, with a knowing smile. “That’s why you still walk free.”
She turned her gaze to Vergil.
“But you…” Freyja said slowly, choosing her words carefully, “looked at as if I were just… soone who exists.”
Vergil thought for a mont before answering.
“Because you are,” he said simply. “A goddess, yes. But still soone.”
Freyja’s laughter ceased completely.
The garden grew quieter—not tense, but attentive, as if the temple itself were listening. Her amber eyes softened.
“…Interesting,” she murmured. “Very interesting.”
Sapphire tilted her head to the side, observing the scene with calculated attention.
“See? He’s not material to beco anyone’s emotional slave.”
Freyja smiled slightly.
“No,” she agreed. “And that makes him dangerously…refreshing.”
She rose from the edge of the pool, the water slowly draining as her feet touched the stone. There was no hurry in her movents. Each step seed to follow the natural rhythm of the place, as if the temple had been built around her—and not the other way around.
Freyja stopped before them, now at the sa height.
“So…” Freyja crossed her arms with quiet elegance, the pool water rippling gently around her legs. The smile on her lips was serene, but her eyes assessed everything with ancient precision. “Sapphire… what exactly have you co to collect this ti?”
Sapphire smiled.
It wasn’t a warm smile.
It was sharp. Calculated. Satisfied.
“You already know.”
For a mont, Freyja closed her eyes. It wasn’t a gesture of weariness—it was acceptance. An old, heavy acceptance, like a debt written long before any temple existed.
“…Of course I know.”
She opened her eyes again, and this ti, the focus shifted. The soft glint gave way to sothing more attentive, more curious—and dangerously amused—as she faced Vergil.
“Despite that…” Freyja tilted her head slightly. “It’s hard to imagine soone being able to physically take part of my soul.”
A crooked smile appeared on her lips.
“So tell , Agares… what exactly do you intend by trying to revoke your bounty?”
Sapphire didn’t answer imdiately.
She just smiled more.
“Check it out yourself.”
She turned to Vergil, her voice now firm, direct—no room for hesitation.
“Lower your defenses. She’s trustworthy.”
Vergil looked at Sapphire, clearly questioning silently: are you sure?
She answered only with a short smile.
“Of course.”
He took a deep breath.
And then it began.
One defense fell.
Then another.
And another.
Invisible layers of containnt crumbled one by one—seals, filters, masks that compressed her presence and hid what truly existed within.
The air changed.
Freyja felt it even before she saw it.
Her shoulders tensed.
The aura around the pool rippled violently, like water reacting to an invisible impact.
The smile vanished.
“Sapphire…” Freyja’s voice ca out lower, deeper. “…what is this?”
The world around her reacted instinctively.
Ancient runes on the temple walls began to glow. The forest around the sanctuary trembled, roots contracting, leaves vibrating like blades about to rise.
Vergil blinked, confused by the reaction.
Sapphire, on the other hand, smiled even more.
“I’m glad to see you can still hide this from Odin’s eyes,” she comnted casually. “It would be… problematic if the Allfather noticed Vergil.”
Freyja didn’t look away from him for a second.
“You still haven’t answered ,” she said, her voice now laden with sothing more ancient than gentleness.
Sapphire took a step forward, her eyes fixed on Freyja’s. “You’re seeing correctly.” She tilted her head slightly. “The wings haven’t fully blossod yet… but it’s all there.”
Freyja’s gaze narrowed.
“A being capable of wielding both Light and Darkness.” Sapphire’s voice beca low, precise, sharp. “The legacy of Lucifer.”
Silence fell like a blade.
Freyja finally looked away—for a single second—and let out a deep sigh.
It wasn’t a human sigh.
Vergil saw it.
Dark smoke escaped the goddess’s lips, mingled with an ancient, almost tallic glow.
“…Ah.” She ran a hand over her face. “I hate this.”
The air in the temple changed completely.
The softness vanished. The welcoming warmth transford into pressure. The pool water began to vibrate, as if sothing were being awakened beneath the surface.
She was no longer just Freyja—goddess of love, fertility, and beauty sung by mortals.
She was Freyja… the goddess of war, magic, and death.
The air shifted again.
Not gently, nor gradually—it was a cut.
The golden light of the sanctuary seed to recede a few steps, like an army recognizing an older general entering the field. The flowers around the pool closed slightly. The waters beca too still.
Freyja rose from the edge of the pool.
There was no haste in the movent, no theatricality. Yet, each step she took carried the weight of forgotten battlefields, of fallen Valkyries, of spells cast upon corpses that still scread.
She faced Sapphire with eyes now darker, deeper.
“Have you gone mad?”
The question didn’t co as an insult. It ca as a strategic observation.
“To let such a being exist?” Freyja continued, her voice now laden with ancient echoes. “You know very well what happens to those who carry the divine and the demonic at the sa ti.”
Vergil felt the impact of those words not as an accusation, but as history. It wasn’t theory. Freyja had seen it happen. Many tis.
“They tear worlds apart,” she said. “They force pantheons to move. They awaken things that should remain buried. Heaven never tolerates… and the abyss never shares.”
Sapphire shrugged.
Literally.
“And yet, he’s here.”
Freyja narrowed her eyes.
Sapphire continued, with irritating tranquility:
“Apparently, the Highfather approved.”
Silence.
A heavy silence, the kind that only exists when a na shouldn’t be spoken lightly.
“Besides,” Sapphire added, “Amon saw no problem either.”
Freyja closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, there was sothing different there—not fear, but calculation.
“…So that’s it,” she murmured. “Heaven approved. Hell consented.”
Vergil remained silent, feeling the goddess’s gaze weigh upon him not as judgnt, but as soone analyzing a rare blade: too dangerous to discard, too valuable to break.
“Even so,” Freyja said, turning to Sapphire, “you didn’t co all this way just to show … this.”
“No,” Sapphire replied promptly. “I ca to do business.”
The word business hung in the air like a contract being placed on a bloodstained table.
Freyja inclined her head slightly.
“You already have a fragnt of my soul. What more could you want?”
Sapphire smiled—but this ti, there was no threat in that smile. There was intention.
“I don’t want your soul,” she said. “In fact… I ca to trade it.”
Freyja blinked.
“Trade?” she repeated cautiously.
Sapphire nodded.
“A fragnt. For sothing else.”
The goddess crossed her arms slowly, the air around her vibrating with ancient magic.
“Continue.”
Sapphire took a step forward.
“I want the Brisingan.”
The na didn’t echo.
It sank.
The reaction was imdiate.
The temple runes glowed in instinctive response. The necklace—even though it wasn’t visible—responded to being ntioned, as if recognizing the weight of the negotiation.
Freyja stood motionless.
“My necklace,” she said slowly. “The artifact that carries my essence. That allows to traverse worlds, hide from divine eyes, fly between planes, and see threads of the future before they are even woven.”
Sapphire inclined her head, satisfied.
“That’s the one.”
Vergil felt a genuine shiver. This wasn’t an impulsive request. It was a movent too precise. Freyja stared at Sapphire for long seconds. When she spoke, her voice was low, dangerous.
“You know what you’re asking for.”
“I know exactly,” Sapphire replied. “And you know what you’re getting.”
Freyja’s gaze shifted for a mont—not to Sapphire, but to Vergil.
She observed him with renewed attention.
“…So that’s why,” she murmured. “You don’t want the necklace for yourself.”
Sapphire smiled slightly. “No.”
“You want it for him.”
Vergil raised an eyebrow, finally speaking: “…Should I be worried?”
Freyja let out a short laugh—humorless.
“You should be,” she replied. “From the mont you were born this way.”
She turned her gaze back to Sapphire.
“A fragnt of my soul… in exchange for the Brisingan,” she said slowly. “You’re asking to give up one of my greatest defenses.”
Sapphire smiled and comnted, “Don’t you want to leave this shitty kingdom?” she questioned, after all… Freyja’s position in the Norse pantheon was complicated… After all…
“Sapphire.” She spoke as her power began to surge, “What do you an by that?”
Sapphire smiled, “I’m saying that… We’re going to win the celestial tournant and… of course, if you help us we can… Break your curse.”
Freyja’s body trembled.
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