Chapter 788

Hela really was generous.

Evenson had expected their first meeting to amount to a few formal compliments, a little encouragement, and perhaps enough ceremony to make Malik and Stephanie feel that their loyalty had been acknowledged.

Instead, Hela had actually given them something substantial.

Not only had she bestowed one of her own sword techniques on Stephanie, she’d also granted her the honored status of a Hela-gar.

That was a surprisingly generous gesture.

Then again, it made sense. Hela had once been a military commander, and military organizations had always operated on a simple principle: reward merit generously and punish failure severely. That was how you kept soldiers loyal.

People didn’t march into battle because their ruler had excellent bedside manners. They fought because there were rewards waiting on the other side—pay, land, titles, status, a better future for their families.

Imagine two rulers competing for the same kingdom.

One is charismatic, noble-born, and famously generous with his subordinates. He treats his soldiers like family, visits the wounded personally, brings them food, and even sheds tears over their suffering.

Touching, isn’t it?

Then the war ends.

Time comes to distribute the rewards, and suddenly every seal of office in the kingdom is apparently priceless. He keeps them all locked away until the edges have been worn smooth from handling.

The other ruler isn’t particularly charming. His manners are terrible, his birth is unimpressive, and he might even receive important guests while soaking his feet.

But when victory comes, he opens the treasury and starts handing out gold and land like he’s trying to empty it before someone changes his mind.

Which ruler do you think most soldiers would rather die for?

Hela was operating on the second principle.

She might have thought very little of Malik and his family personally, but she understood that tangible rewards were the fastest way to win loyalty.

And there was another reason.

Stephanie had been chosen to serve as an executioner—a role Hela clearly regarded with some personal fondness.

The result was immediate.

Malik was practically overwhelmed with gratitude.

And really, could anyone blame him?

His family had spent three thousand years worshiping the Hive, offering sacrifices and loyalty without ever receiving so much as a personal audience.

Their new goddess had known them for less than an hour and had already given them a gift.

And they hadn’t even prepared an offering.

The benefits of switching religions were looking remarkably attractive.

Goodbye, Hive.

We never knew you.

Evenson continued with the formal speech.

"To receive a blessing upon your first audience is a great honor. May you keep your hearts steadfast and never betray the trust placed in you..."

Malik and Stephanie bowed deeply, pledging that their family would serve the goddess for generations, giving everything they had until their dying breath.

Hela, meanwhile, was beginning to look bored.

She raised one hand and gave a casual wave.

Evenson immediately understood.

"The goddess has acknowledged your loyalty. Now..."

He drew in a deep breath and shouted with all the authority he could muster.

"Dismissed!"

In an instant, Malik and Stephanie vanished from the space.

They were returned to the real world.

Only Evenson and Hela remained.

Hela immediately dropped the regal facade.

"God, that’s exhausting."

She jumped down from the throne and rolled her stiff shoulders.

"Now I almost feel sorry for Father. He’s been doing this for all these years. I can’t imagine how tired he must be."

"If you want the privileges of godhood, you have to pay the price of acting like a god."

Evenson laughed.

"You’ll get used to it."

"That sounds painful."

Hela grimaced, then glanced toward him.

"All right. They’re gone. Bring out the real stuff."

Evenson had known exactly what she was waiting for the moment she’d dismissed Malik.

"Right away."

He opened his spatial storage.

A moment later, the room filled with the rumbling crash of falling cargo.

Instant noodles poured out in a mountain.

Then came more supplies—over a dozen portable gas canisters and several dozen containers of purified water.

Hela’s eyebrows twitched.

She struggled to maintain her dignity.

"You’ve worked hard lately. I won’t keep you any longer. Go home and get some rest."

Evenson lowered his head politely.

"Serving Her Divine Grace is my honor. I wouldn’t dare call it hard work."

Hela gave him a sideways look.

"You don’t have to be so modest. I’ve taken note of your contributions."

"Not at all. Not at all. I merely did what little I could."

"You’re too humble."

"You flatter me, Your Grace."

Hela’s eye twitched.

"You... just leave!"

She finally lost patience.

"Did I ask you to flatter me? Why are you still standing there? Are you waiting for me to invite you to dinner?"

Evenson immediately bowed.

"Then I’ll take my leave."

He vanished.

The moment he was gone, Hela abandoned every last scrap of dignity and dove into the mountain of instant noodles.

She was enjoying herself thoroughly when—

"Your Divine Grace!"

"What?!"

Hela shot into the air and glared toward the returning Evenson.

He stood there holding an entire box.

"I forgot to mention that these taste better with pickled bamboo shoots."

Hela’s eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Definitely."

"Leave them over there."

Evenson set the box down and prepared to leave.

Hela suddenly stopped him.

"That’s everything, right?"

"Oh. Actually, there is one more thing."

He tapped a fist against his palm.

"This is purely a personal observation, but I think you’d look better with your hair down. You might want to consider ditching the helmet."

Hela frowned.

"Why?"

"The design is fine."

Evenson paused thoughtfully.

"Maybe it’s just me, but when you wear it..."

He smiled.

"...it makes your face look a little rounder."

He teleported away.

A torrent of black blades tore through the space where he’d been standing.

Hela stood there breathing heavily.

"Rounder?"

She touched her cheek.

"I’ve been eating well lately, and I haven’t exercised much..."

Her expression slowly darkened.

"No. I’m not getting fat."

She glared at the helmet.

"The helmet must have gotten tighter."

Evenson, meanwhile, was already laughing as he escaped.

He had barely emerged from his teleportation when he found Malik and Stephanie waiting outside.

"What is it?"

Malik smiled awkwardly.

"Nothing, nothing..."

His attitude toward Evenson had changed considerably.

He now understood that Evenson’s relationship with Hela was far more complicated than he’d initially assumed. A man who could casually enter the goddess’s presence and speak with her like that was not someone Malik could afford to offend.

Even the highest-ranking minister would think twice before crossing the palace chamberlain who had the monarch’s ear.

Malik hesitated.

"I only wanted to ask... what exactly is your relationship with the goddess?"

Evenson answered without hesitation.

"We’re the kind of friends who’d trust each other with our lives."

Malik’s heart skipped.

He had assumed Evenson was merely Hela’s favored servant.

Apparently, he was something much closer—a trusted companion bound to her by life and death.

Malik had, however, interpreted Evenson’s answer a little too generously.

After all, there was another way to interpret that sort of friendship:

You meet someone for the first time and immediately consider killing each other.

Malik cleared his throat.

"Receiving such a generous blessing upon our first meeting is an extraordinary honor. I probably shouldn’t ask anything more, but..."

He adopted a troubled expression.

"What exactly does ’Hela-gar’ mean?"

Malik had heard the term before.

According to the old Norse legends, the Hela-gar were Hela’s warriors, destined to appear during Ragnar?k and play a major role in the destruction of Asgard.

Of course, he’d already learned that the old myths contained plenty of nonsense.

He wasn’t sure how much of the story could actually be trusted.

"They’re Hela’s army," Evenson said casually.

"There are plenty of inaccuracies in Norse mythology, but most legends have some truth buried underneath them."

He noticed Malik’s hesitation.

"Why? Are you unhappy with the honor?"

"Of course not."

"Hela was once a military commander. Her soldiers were the people closest to her. And your daughter was personally selected by Hela."

Evenson glanced toward Stephanie.

"That means she’s essentially being placed among Hela’s personal guard. That’s no small honor."

Malik understood that perfectly.

A soldier who served in a ruler’s personal guard and later received a field command would have an extremely promising career.

But there was a problem.

Soldiering was dangerous enough.

Serving in Hela’s army—the army that would one day rebel against Odin—was another matter entirely.

The idea of sending his daughter into such a force made him uneasy.

"You don’t need to worry about all that yet."

Evenson smiled when he saw Malik’s expression.

"Instead, think about what becoming a Hela-gar could offer her."

Malik and Stephanie looked at him in confusion.

"Not the obvious benefits like status."

"Then what?"

Evenson’s expression turned thoughtful.

"When I went to Eastern Europe on that special assignment, you sent Rumlow to test me, didn’t you?"

Malik blinked.

He hadn’t expected the subject to come up.

"At the time, we didn’t know each other. We had to establish what kind of person we were dealing with."

"Fair enough. I never cared about that."

Evenson shrugged.

"But you should remember what that mission was about—and who I encountered."

Malik exchanged a glance with Stephanie.

Then they answered together.

"Mephisto. Lord of Hell."

"Exactly."

Evenson’s expression grew more serious.

"Once you’ve established that a Hell Lord exists, you have to accept the obvious conclusion."

"Hell is real."

"Exactly. The place where sinners are punished after death isn’t some story invented by frightened humans."

Evenson pointed between himself and Malik.

"So think about it. Everyone dies eventually. The important question is what happens afterward."

He paused.

"For people like us, when we die, are we going to find the gates of Heaven waiting for us..."

His expression became almost playful.

"...or are we getting dragged straight into Hell?"

Malik didn’t even hesitate.

"That’s hardly a question."

He actually looked remarkably calm.

"Even if Mephisto himself doesn’t want us, even if he tried to throw us somewhere else, our sins would still drag us into Hell eventually."

He shrugged.

"That’s fair, isn’t it? Live a difficult life and earn Heaven afterward. Enjoy yourself while you’re alive, and pay for it in Hell."

He gave a dry laugh.

"Since I’m apparently going to experience one of them eventually, why shouldn’t I enjoy Heaven while I’m still alive? Then, if I end up in Hell afterward, at least I won’t have any regrets."

He paused.

"Frankly, the alternative is worse. Spending my entire life terrified of Hell, only to die and discover that I’m still going there anyway."

"That’s one way of looking at it."

And it was a perfectly reasonable philosophy for someone like Malik.

If the choice was Heaven now and Hell later, or Hell now and Heaven later, why not enjoy the good part first?

But Evenson had a better option.

"What if I told you there was a way to enjoy Heaven while you’re alive..."

He smiled.

"...and avoid Hell after you die?"

Malik froze.

"There’s actually a way to do that?"

People throughout history had desperately searched for exactly such an escape.

That was why kings built enormous tombs and buried themselves with priceless treasures.

Why the powerful pursued immortality.

Why humanity had spent thousands of years trying to bargain with death.

People could claim they were at peace with mortality all they wanted.

Most weren’t.

"That’s where Hela comes in."

Evenson continued.

"She’s the Goddess of Death."

"Once you become her follower, your soul is effectively registered under her authority. Mephisto’s Hell no longer has the same claim over you."

"And once you become a Hela-gar, you’re one of her personal soldiers."

He leaned closer.

"Now, strictly speaking, there are rules even a god can’t simply ignore. Your soul may still eventually be sent into the depths of Hell."

Malik’s face fell.

"But there are... practical differences."

Evenson smiled.

"For example, you could spend eternity being tortured."

"Or..."

"You could become one of the people running the place and torture someone else."

Malik’s eyes widened.

"Or perhaps Hela could temporarily requisition your soul and send you somewhere useful. You might spend your afterlife serving in her army instead."

"You might never have to set foot in the deepest parts of Hell at all."

Malik went silent.

Now he understood.

That was why Umbrella had chosen Hela.

It wasn’t merely because she was a forgotten goddess who could offer them a lucrative opportunity.

They were planning for everything.

Even death.

They intended to control what happened to their people after death.

The thought was terrifying.

Evenson didn’t need to explain any further.

He had given Malik enough information. The old man could draw the rest of the conclusions himself.

As for whether becoming a Hela-gar actually guaranteed freedom from Hell...

That was almost irrelevant.

If it turned out to be false, Malik wouldn’t discover the truth until after he’d died and gone to Hell.

And once he was there, he could hardly come back and complain.

Besides, Evenson could always use another soul crystal.

There was nothing left to discuss.

Evenson said his farewells and departed.

Malik watched him leave.

He remained standing at the door for a long time.

Eventually, he released a slow breath.

A smile appeared on his face.

"What an excellent deal."

"Agreed, Father."

Stephanie stood beside him.

"This time we’ve found a new purpose. And our new goddess is far more powerful than the one we served before. The gift she gave me is incredibly valuable."

"I’m not talking about us."

Malik shook his head.

"We benefited, certainly. But we’re only one part of this transaction."

He looked at his daughter.

"Think about it. We converted today, and you were immediately given a precious blessing."

His eyes narrowed.

"The person who arranged everything, who found these followers for the goddess..."

"How much do you think he will receive?"

Stephanie’s expression changed.

Malik sighed.

"In the end, we’re still just goods being traded."

He had little choice but to accept it.

The bargain was too sweet to walk away from now.

Meanwhile, Evenson had returned home after what felt like an eternity away.

He hadn’t even reached the door when it flew open from the inside.

He barely managed to dodge.

"Boss!"

Sarah came charging out.

Doom followed close behind, carrying several bags.

"You’re back! Perfect timing!"

She grabbed his arm.

"Come on! Come on! We’ve got work!"

Evenson snorted.

"Have some dignity."

After everything he’d accomplished recently, did they really think he was going to rush off for some trivial job?

People he’d negotiated with had been dealing in millions every second.

Surely he was above—

"All right, fine."

He sighed.

"Get my gear ready."