Chapter 881

"It looks like the battle’s over."

Not long after Hailmondas fell, Sif led the rest of her forces back to the upper level of the rift.

"That’s right." Evenson nodded. "Quite a battle, wasn’t it? I imagine it left a pretty deep impression."

"Ah..." Sif’s expression became complicated. "It certainly did."

The demons’ fighting spirit and sheer combat ability had left a strong impression on her.

But that wasn’t what she found strangest.

What really stuck with her was their attitude toward the battle itself.

The moment the fighting ended, the demons had scattered as casually as a bunch of people leaving a bar fight. They hadn’t even bothered with a final threat or dramatic declaration.

Instead, they’d practically invited them back.

Come visit again sometime.

"Those demons are impossible to understand," Sif muttered. "They treat war like some kind of game."

You’re not exactly innocent either.

Evenson kept that thought to himself.

He looked over the Valkyries. Every one of them was practically glowing with battlelust. Nearly all of them had demon heads hanging from their belts. Some had threaded several skulls together like gruesome trophies and draped them across their bodies.

Almost every one of them had also claimed several enormous demonic weapons.

The whole group looked like they’d just returned from the world’s most violent shopping spree.

Only considerably more horrifying.

There was a perfectly good reason for it.

Under Frigga’s new reforms, Asgard rewarded military achievements with titles and status. Demon weapons could be brought home as trophies, but demon heads?

Those were worth gold.

And sometimes noble rank.

"Still, you’ve all taken quite a few injuries."

Evenson’s gaze moved over the Valkyries again.

Blood stained many of their armor and clothes. Several had been badly burned, with entire patches of hair singed away. The arms hidden behind their shields were difficult to judge, but some of their faces bore severe burns.

What a waste.

They’d been beautiful women before the battle. Now some of them looked like they’d lost an argument with a furnace.

Meanwhile, the Felheart warriors he’d sent into the battle appeared almost completely unharmed.

That told him everything he needed to know.

They definitely hid behind the Valkyries.

Feeling a little guilty, Evenson cleared his throat.

"Do you need medical treatment? I can whip up another batch of that potion for you right here."

"No need."

Sif and the injured Valkyries shook their heads almost in unison.

"If we wanted treatment, we wouldn’t have waited for you."

The Valkyries had undergone fel corruption and possessed extraordinary regenerative abilities. Their spears also restored stamina and accelerated healing as they killed.

So the horrific scars covering their bodies were, for the most part, injuries they’d chosen to keep.

Asgardians didn’t regard battlefield scars as ugly.

A scar earned in battle was a badge of honor, every bit as valuable as the weapons they collected.

It proved that they’d survived.

It proved that they’d fought.

And, thanks to Frigga’s new policies, it also qualified them for battlefield compensation.

No wonder Thor keeps looking for women on Earth.

Evenson silently shook his head.

These women are basically battle-hardened dragons.

He couldn’t imagine bringing one home.

Forget arguments about who did the dishes. One wrong move after using the bathroom and suddenly you’d have eighteen different weapons pointed at your head.

Dating one of them probably required signing a battlefield treaty.

Who could live like that?

"What are you planning to do next?" Sif asked.

She had apparently ignored everything going through his head.

"Obviously, I’m going to establish ownership."

Evenson answered as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Before Sif could respond, however, a massive figure slowly descended toward them.

The demon landed heavily before the group.

It was Ziros, an unusually large Doomguard aspirant.

His body was considerably larger than that of an ordinary Doomguard. He looked around, then lowered his gaze toward Hailmondas’s mutilated corpse.

"You killed the lord?"

Sif immediately became alert.

She remembered this demon from the defensive battle.

He had appeared near the end, but the moment he entered the battlefield, her defensive line had nearly collapsed.

She still had no illusions about his strength.

Back then, however, the circumstances had been different.

The Valkyries had been maintaining a defensive formation while simultaneously protecting themselves from attacks by other demons. They’d also known almost nothing about Ziros or his abilities.

That combination had left them vulnerable.

Now there was only one of him.

If they had to fight him here, the situation would be considerably more manageable.

"That’s right. I killed Hailmondas."

Evenson didn’t hesitate for even a second.

He openly claimed responsibility.

Behind him, Peggy Carter and Agatha stared at him with undisguised contempt.

Have you no shame?

He hadn’t lifted a finger during the actual fight.

Ziros slowly raised his enormous two-handed sword.

Sif tightened her grip on her spear.

The moment he attacked, she’d strike from the side.

Instead—

Thud.

Ziros drove the greatsword into the ground before him and dropped to one knee.

"Since you killed the previous lord, you are the new lord. On behalf of the entire demonic army of the Fel Scar Rift, I swear my allegiance to you."

Sif nearly dropped her spear.

That’s it?

Was transferring control of a demonic army really this simple?

Kill the previous lord, become the new lord.

Even if these demons cared nothing for loyalty and only respected strength, surely they should at least ask how the previous lord had died.

Ziros, however, clearly saw no reason to complicate matters.

As far as he was concerned, Hailmondas had died because he was either insufficiently strong or insufficiently evil.

The survivor was obviously stronger.

And probably more evil.

Therefore, pledging allegiance was simply the sensible thing to do.

"Well said."

Evenson was thoroughly pleased.

"I am the new lord of the Fel—"

Agatha and Sagatess simultaneously narrowed their eyes at him.

Evenson froze.

"—new acting lord."

The two women nodded in satisfaction.

There was nothing wrong with that arrangement.

He was helping his wife conquer the world.

Then he could retire and live off her.

Honestly, Evenson couldn’t find a flaw in that plan.

"Acting lord?"

Ziros looked confused.

"You mean you’re not the true lord? You’re going to hand the rift over to someone else?"

"That’s one way of putting it."

"I see."

Ziros’s expression barely changed.

"Then the true lord must be stronger and more evil than you. We are willing to pledge allegiance to a stronger and more evil being."

"You adapt quickly."

Evenson was beginning to like this demon.

"I’m a warlock."

"I already noticed."

Ziros’s eyes swept over him.

"The dark energy constantly radiating from you made that rather obvious. So?"

"So..."

Evenson suddenly found him slightly less charming.

"My previous Doomguard contract has an opening. You’re strong enough, so I thought you might be interested."

Ziros’s eyes lit up.

He’d been trapped in this godforsaken place for ages. Normally, he couldn’t even get a soul crystal. Some days, there wasn’t enough soul residue to scrape together a decent meal.

A contract with a warlock meant access to the mortal world.

Fresh souls.

Actual hunting.

That sounded like an excellent promotion.

But Ziros wasn’t an ordinary Doomguard. He was on the verge of becoming a Doomlord, and that meant he had considerably more sense than most of his kind.

After thinking it over, he asked cautiously,

"Can I ask how your previous Doomguard died?"

"Well..."

Evenson’s throat made a strange sound.

His eyes slowly drifted toward Peggy Carter.

Ziros followed his gaze.

He looked at Peggy.

Then he looked at the enormous number of Felheart warriors standing nearby.

Then he looked back at Evenson.

"I understand."

Ziros straightened.

"You know, Hailmondas only just died. The new lord hasn’t arrived yet, and our army suffered casualties in this battle."

He gave a solemn nod.

"I think it would be best if I stayed here and guarded the rift."

"You think so?" Evenson asked. "You don’t want to reconsider?"

"No."

Ziros’s expression was utterly sincere.

"I’m putting the interests of the army first."

"You’re speaking from the heart?"

"Every word is true."

Are you kidding me?

Ziros wasn’t stupid.

The warlock was offering him a contract, but who knew what that really meant?

Maybe Evenson wanted him as a servant.

Or maybe he wanted his demon heart.

And if Ziros agreed like an idiot, perhaps he’d be carved up and fed to someone else before the ink on the contract even dried.

This guy is ruthless.

He’d already started eyeing him as potential dog food.

Better not make an enemy of him.

Ever.

"What a shame."

Peggy Carter suddenly walked over to Evenson, wearing an expression of exaggerated disappointment.

"I really thought he’d accept."

She sighed.

"Such a shame."

Ziros stared at her.

Warlocks.

Absolutely disgusting.

Their minds were filthy.

He immediately decided that he would make absolutely certain to stay on the good side of the new lord.

If this warlock ever whispered something nasty about him, Ziros suspected he might wake up one morning to discover that his demon heart had become somebody’s breakfast.

"Lady Sif, thank you for your assistance."

Evenson turned toward her.

"I believe we can complete our transaction now."

"Yes."

Sif adjusted her helmet.

Frigga had sent the Valkyries here specifically to retrieve a shipment.

"Where is the merchandise?"

"Right here."

Evenson pointed toward Hailmondas’s corpse.

"Hang him up."

Nobody moved.

Evenson looked around.

"...Could someone help me out here?"

He gestured helplessly at the enormous corpse.

"I’m a warlock. I don’t exactly have the strength to hoist that thing myself."

"I’ll do it."

Ziros stepped forward.

Sif had been about to order several Valkyries to handle it, but the demon was already moving.

He let out a thunderous roar and summoned several Doomguard.

Together, they brought out thick iron chains.

Then they wrapped Hailmondas’s corpse from head to toe and hauled the former lord’s body upward, hanging it upside down from the ruins of the palace.

A moment later—

Splatter.

Fel-tainted blood poured from the enormous wound in Hailmondas’s neck.

It came down in a thick torrent.

Evenson walked over with a collection of clean plastic buckets, funnels, and ladles.

After collecting two full buckets, he handed them to Sif.

"That’s your shipment."

Sif stared at the buckets.

"...That’s it?"

It wasn’t disgust that bothered her.

For most of their dealings, Evenson had referred to fel blood as merchandise, medicine, or potion ingredients. Sif hadn’t fully understood what the substance actually was.

Now she did.

And surprisingly, blood didn’t bother an Asgardian warrior.

Asgardians were perfectly capable of drinking the blood of their enemies. A little flesh mixed in wouldn’t exactly ruin the meal.

No, what bothered her was the quantity.

"You’re only giving us this?"

Sif stared at the two buckets.

"We fought an entire battle for this, and you’re giving us two buckets? There’s a whole pool of it over there! You could spare a little more."

"It’s enough."

Evenson pushed both buckets into her hands.

"Remember, the last batch of medicine was made from the heart of an ordinary demon. This time, we’re dealing with blood taken from a Pit Lord. The quality isn’t remotely comparable."

He pointed toward the corpse.

"And Frigga has enough magical power to refine this properly. If it’s processed correctly, your real problem won’t be having too little blood."

He paused.

"It’ll be finding enough Valkyries capable of undergoing the treatment."

Sif narrowed her eyes.

"Are you sure?"

Something about the amount of explanation made her suspect Evenson was simply being stingy.

"Yes."

Evenson sighed.

"If you actually run out, come back and get more."

"Fine."

That seemed to satisfy her.

"You’ve been here long enough," Evenson continued. "Frigga is probably waiting for your report. Now that everything is settled, you should head back."

He gestured toward the portal.

"Go through there. My people will guide you to the appropriate location so you can take the Bifrost home."

"Is that a dismissal?"

Sif smiled.

She didn’t seem offended.

Evenson had only just conquered the place. Whatever he had to deal with now was internal business, and naturally he didn’t want outsiders lingering around for it.

Evenson personally escorted the Valkyries to the portal.

"I’ll see you this far. Give the Queen Mother my thanks."

"I will."

Sif nodded solemnly.

But before stepping through, she looked back at the rift.

"Today was a great victory. We have eliminated a tremendous threat to the universe."

"Yes..."

Evenson hesitated.

He could have told her the truth.

Compared with the Burning Legion as a whole, this place meant almost nothing.

The Fel Scar Rift had been forgotten long ago, little more than an abandoned outpost buried somewhere in the Legion’s vast military machine.

But he swallowed the words.

"Think of it that way for now."

He continued,

"But we can’t afford to become complacent. We invaded their world today. There’s every chance they’ll eventually invade ours."

Sif’s expression hardened.

"Then we still have much to do."

"I understand."

Determination burned in her eyes.

"That’s why the Queen Mother sent us here for these materials. Asgard will only grow stronger. Whether the Burning Legion comes for us or some other threat emerges, none of them will succeed."

"That’s good to hear."

Evenson smiled.

One by one, the Asgardians passed through the portal.

Once the last of them had disappeared, Evenson closed the portal from his side.

The battlefield fell quiet.

He then contacted Gnos, who was still waiting inside the Soul Engine.

"Set up the teleportation beacons."

Evenson’s voice carried across the connection.

"Bring the engine to full power."

He looked out across the conquered rift.

"A brand-new world is waiting for us."

His smile widened.

"At least, it is for you."