Hel POV
"My goddess, I will be leaving now."
"Umu, I wish you good hunting, my champion."
Once again, our champion departs on his quest. It is something we have grown accustomed to, him leaving us alone.
Back in that trickster's domain, we would have had no choice but to quietly wait for him to come home, all the while avoiding that living menace, but now that we possess our own domain, we are free to travel the realm.
But first... we must look after our own domain. We head toward the chamber at the back of Helheim and take hold of the artifacts within.
The sweeping branch to remove the debris, the pool of tears, and the imbibing tendrils to ensure none of the stains remain, and to top it all off, the unblemished cloth to eliminate the dew.
We meticulously move around the Hall of the Dead, banishing the unwelcome dust and debris from the day before.
Umu, the act of cleaning our realm is one of the utmost importance!
Helheim shall remain pristine because we are here.
Some deities might see this task as one below their station, but for us, this is not dissimilar to our duty in the upper world.
Interestingly, one could even say that we are finding comfort in this menial labor.
After completing our duties for the day, we bid Helheim a fond farewell and exited into the outside world.
After activating the seal on the entrance to the Hall of the Dead, we proceed to our destination. It is the place where people drown in their desire to quell the voracious hunger within.
Our feet tread on the dirt path leading to the heart of the city while our eyes scour for possible threats that might rear their ugly heads.
This part of Orario is said to be peaceful and away from conflict, but we know better than to let ourselves be domesticated by the homely atmosphere of this district.
"Oh my, Miss Hel! How nice it is to see you."
We turn our head toward the voice and see the Goddess of Bountiful Harvest waving at us.
"Is Mister glutton going to the dungeon today?"
"Umu, my champion is sharpening his skills and wit to better tackle his upcoming trial."
The moon has completed its cycle since we settled in Helheim. Our champion has to keep traversing the Dungeon to fulfill our decree.
Peering at his current growth, we conclude that a new awakening will come quicker than one would commonly expect.
"I see. I see. So he must be working harder than usual. He is such a good boy, isn't he?"
"He is. The underworld has blessed myself to have him as my flag bearer."
"Fufu, I am happy that both of you treasure each other so much." She smiles brightly. "Oh right, we have some extra vegetables and fruits in this harvest. I will have Persephone and the others deliver it to your home."
"You have my thanks, Bountiful Goddess. I shall inform my champion to repay you back in kind."
"Oh please. You don't have to worry about that."
"While we are thankful for your generosity, we are not so lacking that we could not return the kindness one has shown us." We assure her. "Hel Familia prides itself on our hospitality. Whether it is a kindness or a slight, we shall repay the debt in full. Do not smear our pride with your rejection, Goddess of Harvest."
"I see. Like Goddess, like children. Both of you are adorable." Her giggles are no different than those that a mother would make at the antics of her children.
It would be insulting if we couldn't see the honest affection in her soul.
"Then please tell Mister Glutton to visit us at the next harvest. His support will be very welcome during our busy time."
"Umu. I shall deliver your message to my champion. I bid you a good day."
"Yes, see you later, Miss Hel."
...
Food and drinks were things foreign to heaven. It was a needless luxury for the unchanging gods.
We were one of the few that did not subscribe to the notion of finding enjoyment in such things.
Our duty of welcoming and cleaning the souls of mortals was far more important to us than wasting our time on frivolities like food.
Yet now that we walk the same plain as our children, food is one of the vital components in living our life here.
All the more so for us, who were patrons of the most voracious champion in the lower world.
Our champion finds great pleasure in his food. In his words, "Eating is proof of living." It is a unique view, but one we are quick to understand.
As one who governs upon the cycle of life and death, it is a great joy to have a champion that treasure his life so.
Following his example, we slowly finish the feast before us in great gratitude. The warm vegetable soup and the roasted meat become our nourishment.
They shall take part to fuel our divinity.
"Thank you for the food."
With the first part done, we proceed to the host of this place.
"Ah, done with the meal, Goddess Hel?" The Gentle Giant says as we bring our plates.
Our champion has taught us that an empty plate is the greatest accolade one could give to the chef.
That piece of wisdom holds true, as we can see the Gentle Giant's mood brighten up as she receives the spotless plate.
"Umu, the underworld, extends the greatest gratitude to you. Your craft has satiated both our hunger and tongue."
"Hahaha! Having both you and that brat is always a treat for my restaurant. I don't need to worry that we will have a lot of leftovers with him around." She laughs. "Ah, but if you become a decent cook, he will probably come less, huh? That will be a huge blow to the business."
"Nay, I am doubtful that my skill will ever come close to yours. My champion holds your mastery of cooking in high regard. Even if the day comes when I can provide him with meals crafted by our own hands, our presence here will assuredly still be a frequent one." We say to her.
"Are you not selling yourself short? I think the absence of my champion will not affect this place's prosperity."
"I know it's unbelievable, but that brat's purchase accounts for almost a fifth of our total sales this month. It won't drive us to the red, but we will still be hurting for sure." She scratches her head.
"Anyway, let's get today's practice done with."
...
We take a whiff of the boiling stock of meat and vegetables in front of us. All of them are the product of our hard work for the past hour.
It was something beyond the realm of our imagination.
If our past selves could see us now, learning the craft of cooking to lift the spirit of our champion, they would be stunned to silence for sure.
The road to mastery is a long and arduous journey.
That is the truth we have accepted as we toil under the tutelage of the Gentle Giant.
She is a fair taskmaster, something we are thankful for considering her past allegiances.
...No, calling it past allegiances might not be completely correct.
"Ara, the soup smells delicious, Miss Hel."
Her presence is known to us even before she speaks.
We could taste the almost nauseating sweetness in the air. Her soul always has that effect on her surroundings.
The warmth of the sunlight, the sweet taste of honey, the fragrant smell of countless petals; this woman brings them along wherever she goes.
Just like the sun being blocked by clouds, watered down honey, and flowers covered with leaves, she tries to hide her truth away, but no matter how she tries to mask it, her inner self can never be hidden.
The color of her soul remains the same even under her masquerade. Thus, we refuse to acknowledge her presence.
Yet, she is not dissuaded by this fact and continues to bother us.
"Mama Mia has been teaching me too, but I still can't seem to get the taste just right. Isn't it terrible?"
Her presence is sickening. We keep our attention on the boiling cauldron, giving it a few stirs as we wait for her to go away on her own.
"I have no interest in humoring your fancy. 'Syr', was it?"
The foreign name rolls off our tongue in the hope that the gesture will satisfy her greed.
"Oh, you know my name! I am so happy that a goddess like you would remember someone like me." She ignores the disdain and sarcasm in our tone and smiles happily.
We huff in annoyance.
How daft can one person be? Nay, knowing her essence, she is purposely doing this.
"Do I need to make my wish clear? Leave. I can not stand your existence."
"Ahaha, I guess talking with a goddess so casually is very impolite." She says cheerily. "Sorry Miss Hel, I won't bother you again. Mortals should interact with mortals, shouldn't we? It is only proper. Truth to be told, I always want to have a chat with Mr. Gin."
For the first time since we met her here, we finally deem it worth our while to come face to face with this woman.
The moment our champion's name escaped her mouth, our hands already took a grasp of her neck.
"Oh my? You look really scary, Miss Hel." Her visage projects fear and worry, but we know from her soul's shine that even this threat is beneath her notice.
"I have no interest in this silly farce of yours, hedonist. I was planning to keep my animosity in check, but if you dare force my champion into that theater of yours..."
Our hands tighten their grip on the witch's neck.
"I shall snuff out your life right here."
A moment passes in silence before she raises her hand in surrender.
"Sorry, sorry! I was just joking around." She laughs.
We click our tongue and go back to stirring the pot.
To think that we would lose our composure in front of this witch… What a dishonor to our great name!
"It's totally my fault for going too far, so will you please forgive me, Miss Hel?"
We stay silent once more, not wanting to humor her again.
"Aaah… You are ignoring me again. Well, it can't be helped. I only want to ask that you do not interfere with my work here, okay? It's hard to get a decent job these days, you see? In exchange, I will give you something in return. Here, I believe this should suffice for now."
She plants a single Grimoire besides us.
We are aware of the power contained within its binders.
It will certainly be useful for our champion's growth… But the fact that such an item comes from this woman does not please us in the slightest.
"This is just an apology gift for back then. If you ever need anything else, I will gladly give it to you. So, how about it?"
"...Leave. I shall tolerate your presence as long as you never appear in front of my Familia." We feel sick to the pit of our stomach, but the growth of our champion far outweighs our egotism.
If we need to watch as this witch's play unfolds, then so be it.
She claps her hands in joy. "Okay, it's a deal then, but..." Her frowning face enters our view. "Mou, Hel-san. Aren't you interested in why I am doing this? Isn't it a curious thing to do?"
"Curious? Surely you jest." We scoff. "Even if the logic behind your action can not be grasped, the reason behind it is always the same. It does not interest me in the slightest."
"Hahaha, I am happy that you know me so well, Miss Hel. I always like that about you." We swallow back the curse that threatens to exit our throat at her words. Uttering any words would only prolong her unwelcome presence.
"See you later then. Bye bye Miss Hel." As her suffocating presence leaves the room, we close our eyes in disdain, futilely trying to remove the memory from our mind.
As expected, the gesture bore no fruit.
"How unpleasant."
...
We bid farewell to the Gentle Giant and her followers. There is no more duty to be had for the day.
The only thing left is to head to Helheim and prepare to welcome our champion.
We slowly tread the road home.
It is always a wonder to walk along this path filled with numerous souls. Mortal souls are always a treat for our eyes.
Various walks of life would naturally result in various colors.
It is a shame that in these dangerous times, more mortals decide to shut themselves inside their halls.
Worry and fear also cloud most of the souls present.
We do not despise or think any less of those who are blanketed by dark thoughts, and we are not so arrogant that we would meddle with their journey only to satisfy our own curiosity.
All souls will have their own journey and we shall observe and appreciate them all with no exception.
Saga, tragedy, comedy, it matters not. We shall welcome them all.
Yet... it would be a lie to say that we do not have our own preferences.
Perhaps our champion's influence wedges itself deeper than we thought.
"...?" A familiar smell pulls us away from our idle thoughts.
It is the smell that reminisces of a burning candle. One that we were constantly getting from the Little Tempest before her soul was painted anew by our champion.
…It is the odor of death, which we gods of death and rebirth would not miss.
We turn our attention to one of the many dark alleys along the road and proceed toward it.
As we walk into the small passage, the first thing that enters our view is a warrior smeared in blood.
Not one of her enemies', it is her own lifeblood that flows endlessly from her wounds.
Even without drawing closer, we can see that she has not entered the cycle just yet. Her soul, while faint, is still glowing inside her mortal vessel.
Her soul adopts a glow that is unique in our eyes.
Quiet rage tinged with acceptance, pride tempered with independence; those two dominant radiances have now been overshadowed by fear and disbelief.
Has she encountered a foe far beyond her reach, perhaps?
We stopped right in front of her. Death draws closer to her. It will not come as a surprise if her life ends in an instant.
"Do you want to live?"
"...Help... me." Her face is marred with tears and snot. It is a sight that would either be comical, pitiable, or shameful for both gods and mortals.
But... This is the most beautiful sight for us.
Even darkened by her loss, her soul is still beautiful.
How many of God's children have a color such as her? How very quaint.
Even beyond despair, her wish to live still shines through. It is a brilliant light which we gods will never possess.
"I am the dead, the dark, the silence. I am Hel." We declare to her as we extend our hand just barely within her reach.
"If thou wishest to be saved, then take my hand."
We patiently wait as she finally make her mind.
Slowly, shakingly, weakly, no different than a new born fawn, her hand grasps ours.
It is settled.
Her new life will be one lived under our banner.
We could feel a smile forming on our lips.
This is what we realized after we met our champion. The smell of death might be the beacon that leads to our arrival, but it does not interest us.
No, the one we are attracted to is the will to live.
That is the only prerequisite to entering our hall.
"Welcome to my hall, My Prideful Warrior."
We have no intention of welcoming a walking corpse to be a warrior who stands beside our champion.
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