Athena's General - Chapter 338

Nathan Evenhart:

“Loki’s return is near,” Siegfried said. “He knows that if he resurrects randomly in this world, we’ll destroy him instantly. We can access Midgard whenever we want. That’s why—the closer he gets to rebirth, the worse it gets for you. The portals will keep opening… and they won’t stop until everything is under their control.”

I exhaled, trying to take it all in.

“So these attacks will continue? More of those half-demons are coming?”

“Exactly.”

“And there’s nothing you can do about it?”

He shook his head.

“If we attack their mortals, the demons will retaliate directly against you. That would trigger a war between divine beings. And this world wouldn’t survive it. Since it’s their mortals crossing the border, they fall under your responsibility. Now, if an actual demon god were to step foot in Midgard—that would be different. Then we’d act.”

I mulled over his words. They made sense… but it still felt unfair.

"My people didn’t choose this war," I said. “We’re being dragged into it. I understand your point, but still… it’s unbalanced. We’re being invaded by people with demonic powers, abilities far beyond ours.”

Siegfried sighed.

"And you have your own advantages—unique elements, exclusive magical domains, winged steeds. Believe it or not, the balance does exist. Defending this world is easier than invading theirs. Right now, they can’t bring an army—only elite warriors. The more efficiently you eliminate them, the more pressure you put on their forces."

What he said made sense.

In war, defense always has the advantage.

But still... we were being forced into a conflict with no ceasefire, no diplomacy.

If even the True Humans couldn’t reach an agreement, how could we expect negotiation with half-demons?

They’d never choose peace. Not when their leader’s only hope of rebirth lies in my world—and we have gods waiting to strike him down the moment he returns.

“They’ll never stop…” I muttered. “So why don’t you invade their world? I wouldn’t mind if that place got wiped out.”

“The Pact was made at the end of Ragnarok—or rather, after it,” Siegfried said, his voice slower now. “Every realm was in ruins. Entire races and species were wiped out. If the fighting had continued, none of the surviving worlds would’ve made it. That’s why the agreement was formed. It prevents both sides from attacking each other directly.”

His gaze grew distant, heavy with the weight of centuries.

I paused, thinking it over.

“But… you said you’re waiting for Loki to return—so you can strike. Wouldn’t that break the Pact?”

Siegfried remained silent for a long moment. Then, carefully, he answered:

“The Pact only applies to that Loki. If he returns in another form, another body… the agreement is void.”

A short laugh escaped me—half sarcastic, half bitter.

“So he tricked you. Signed the Pact just to buy time until he was strong enough to come back.”

Siegfried let out a deep sigh.
“We tricked each other. We all knew what we were doing. But we stayed silent. That time… it was necessary for us too. Our world needed it to recover. To grow stronger again.”

He looked me in the eye.

“And now… we’re ready for war.”

I felt my stomach twist.

My world was going to be caught in the middle of this chaos—crushed by forces far beyond anything mortal minds could understand.

"You and I, Nathan," Siegfried said, "both agree that the best course is to eliminate Loki the moment he reincarnates. If my people take the initiative, dealing with the Nidhogg will be easier—and the destruction, more contained."

He spoke with the calm certainty of someone declaring an inevitable truth.

But something about it didn’t sit right.

A loose thread.

A sliver of the story that hadn’t been told.

My instincts screamed that there was more to this—something he was keeping from me.

I wanted to ask. I wanted to press him.

But I hesitated.

This wasn’t the time. Confronting Siegfried directly could backfire. Right now, I needed answers—not enemies.

Still… one thought wouldn’t leave me alone:

If Loki was such a threat, and if Asgard truly wanted to protect this world, why not just let him reincarnate in his own realm?

Why not draw him back to the world he once ruled—and crush him there?

But the answer was too obvious.

Letting Loki return would mean facing him in his territory—at full strength, surrounded by allies, at the peak of his power.

Killing him here—in my world—was the safest strategy.

At least… for them.

But that also meant my world would become the battlefield.

And the cost of that… could be catastrophic.

Even knowing that, I said nothing.

I didn’t trust Siegfried—not entirely—but picking a fight now would be foolish.

Today, information was more valuable than pride.

I shifted the conversation.

“That half-demon… he could regenerate. Was that the Aspect of Life?”

“No,” Siegfried said. “That came from his demonic side. Archbishops each carry a single Aspect. Heralds have at least two.”

At least two Celestial Aspects…

More than some gods of Asgard themselves.

I realized I didn’t even know how many archbishops and heralds existed.

Maybe just a few… or maybe more than we could handle.

“They can’t awaken the full Aspect of Life,” Siegfried continued. “Not even the potential of Time. Their versions are weaker than ours. Still... they are mortal. But their demonic blood grants them ways to extend their lives. Cut off their heads, though—and they die.”

He leaned slightly forward.

“That’s a valuable piece of information, Nathan. Remember it.”

I nodded slowly, filing it away.

So... if I’d just cut off his head…

The thought made me furious with myself—but I let it go.

That herald had let me land that blow. He knew I wouldn’t go for the kill. If there’d been even a hint of real danger, he would’ve unleashed everything—like when he used the Aspect of Space to freeze me and Cylla.

I looked at Siegfried.

“So... if I cut off your head, you wouldn’t die?”

“No,” he said calmly. “I’d regenerate.”

Then added, with a faint smirk:

"But even if I couldn’t… no human would get close enough before being obliterated."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“But why are you so interested in that?”

"I just wanted to know if there was a way I could kill Loki and the Nidhogg..." I answered.

There was some truth to it.

But deep down, I also wanted to know how to kill any god in this world.

Better safe than sorry.

"You stand no chance against them," Siegfried said flatly. "But... that’s why the Aspect of Death—the ability to kill the soul—is considered dangerous by the divine. Even so, if I were struck by that herald’s sword, it wouldn’t affect me. A single ant may land its strongest blow... but it’s still just the strongest blow of an ant. It wouldn’t do anything."

He continued without hesitation:

"Even if your Aspect of Death awakened fully and granted you that ability, it still wouldn’t be enough to kill them. The power gap is too great."

I listened, processing.

“To kill Loki when he returns—and to deal with the other Nidhogg—we’ll use different methods. Ones that don’t rely on the Aspect of Death. But those... are matters for my people. We will handle Loki and the Nidhogg."

I fell into silence, the weight of it all settling over me.

"Now I understand how dangerous it was for Cylla..." I said quietly, feeling the words as I spoke them.

She knew she could’ve died.

Just like I knew—instinctively—that sword would have killed me if it touched me.

And yet… she chose to stand between me and death.

Siegfried’s voice cut back in.

"The tip I gave you—about decapitating heralds and archbishops—that only applies to them. Most living creatures would die if you cut off their heads… but there are exceptions. Plants, for example—cut their tops, and they grow back. A creature with multiple heads might survive the loss of one. There are many types of monsters, each with their own specific weaknesses."

I nodded slowly, absorbing everything.

Then I asked the question that had been clawing at me:

"When will the great portal open completely?"

I had to know everything I could about that anomaly on the border.

Can we position an army in front of it?

How big is it?

No—wrong questions.

How powerful will the thing coming out be?

"We don’t know," Siegfried said. "Not even seers can predict it. But there is a seal—a protective layer. What you call the 'Wall of Ice.'"

"The wall on the edge of my continent?"

"Exactly. Long ago, when we intervened, we raised that wall as a magical seal. It prevents the portal from opening completely. It also blocks the formation of smaller rifts within your continent. We didn’t leave you defenseless, Nathan. But the solution is temporary. That wall only delays the inevitable. It's like patching holes in a sinking ship. One day… it won’t be enough."

As he spoke, my eyes drifted to the map of the continents behind him.

And suddenly—something clicked.

A realization struck me like lightning.

"The Illuminated... For centuries, they’ve sent the True Humans to attack our border fortresses… It wasn’t about conquest, was it? They were trying to accelerate the process."

Siegfried nodded.

"Correct. The demons stirred hatred within the humans of that continent—on purpose. If the fortresses along the wall fall, the great portal will open. The army waiting on the other side will invade your world. And yes... the royals in your kingdom have known this for generations."

That explained why they hadn't sent the archbishops and heralds to attack the Wall.

There were probably rules—some part of the agreement I didn’t know about. From what I’d gathered… the True Humans were being used for that purpose.

The portals created within the Theocracy hadn’t been meant to subjugate the people. They were training them. Strengthening them—while fueling their hatred.

Preparing them to fight against monsters. Maybe even supplying weapons.

Could their advanced technology come from studying monsters?Just like my sword had been forged from a fang of Jörmungandr… Maybe they were using carapaces and bones to forge magical gear.

Those damned Illuminated were building an army in our world to fight us...

It all made sense now.

"Is there any way to stop this? Reinforce the seal?"

He shook his head.

"We can't interfere further—and even if we could, we wouldn’t. Some of our warriors have already died protecting your people in battles fought in the neutral zone, at the root of Yggdrasil. But we won’t leave you completely helpless. When the time is right, we’ll offer support—within the bounds of the agreement. Until then... there are things you must handle on your own. Like the traitors... among your own."

"So... that part's on us," I muttered.

"Exactly. Keep defending the frontier. The wall is doomed to fall, but if you hold the line—you may buy decades. Maybe even centuries."

I exhaled, the weight of it settling on my shoulders.

"And how did they invade the academy tower?"

"I don’t have time to explain that now. We’ve already contacted your kingdom’s royalty—they’ll tell you everything soon enough. But keep our contact secret. Don’t let anyone know about our... 'friendship.' Or that Cylla exists. Especially that. In short: the tower housed an ancient Bifrost portal. And with the current proximity between worlds, someone on your side was able to activate it—allowing the enemy through. This wasn’t our doing. It was yours."

So... traitors.

William opened the portal?

I needed to assume the worst—there were probably more of them.

People I saw every day... might already be working against us.

I realized Siegfried wasn’t going to elaborate.

This was our responsibility now.

"And where does Cylla fit into all this?" I asked, trying to pull more answers from him.

He looked at me for a long moment before correcting me.

"Sisika. She’s one of the reasons we’ve limited our interference in recent years. What she did… was serious. Fortunately, you didn’t give in to the idea of using a dragon to conquer your kingdom."

"I would never do that—"

Siegfried adjusted his coat, ignoring my protest.

"She helped me during that fight. Did that break the pact with the demons?" I asked.

"No. Sisika hasn’t awakened any divine powers. Right now, she’s equivalent to a dragon familiar. You saw it yourself—she couldn’t even defeat a half-demon. Sisika at full strength would’ve dealt with that creature effortlessly."

I considered that. But then Siegfried leaned in slightly.

"You’re lucky. In her current form, Sisika created a loophole. It let her stay by your side. It almost feels... planned."

He said that last part more to himself than to me.

Then his eyes locked onto mine.

"It’s time we talked about Sisika. What do you want to know?"

"How did she know about me?" I asked. "She told me she’d known me before we even met. And she was surprised when I discovered her hatchling body… as Cylla."

Siegfried narrowed his eyes, deep in thought.

"You don’t know… do you?"

He sighed.

"Unfortunately, Sisika vanished centuries ago—right after returning from a war. We don’t know what she did during her time away. I hate to admit it, but you will have to explain things to me. I want to know everything you can tell me about Sisika... and Cylla."

So I told him.

In detail.

Maybe that was why he’d shared the story of this world with me in the first place.

Or maybe not.

He didn’t need to bargain. He had more than enough power to force the truth out of me.

Still, I chose to cooperate. I didn’t trust the gods—but in this new life, I was just a human among beings who were far stronger.

As I spoke, I watched his eyes narrow—analyzing every word, every piece of the puzzle I handed him.

"I see," he murmured finally. "That explains how you got the Jörmungandr metal. The being called 'Cylla'… was chained to it."

"Exactly," I said. "But it’s still strange. Why would she leave a second body so vulnerable? And how did humans from that continent get those chains?"

He paused, thinking.

"They went beyond the sea... Do you know what lies out there?"

"No," I replied. "Most who try to cross it fail. The current drags them back—and the few who survive the waves..."

I trailed off. He seemed to recall the detail on his own.

"Sometimes I forget how fragile you are. Beyond the safe waters around your continent, the sea becomes something else entirely—a place of ancient, dangerous creatures. It’s not a place for mortals to tread."

He snapped his fingers.

A semi-transparent image appeared before him—a floating island bathed in shimmering light.

"There is a passage to Svartalfheim on this island. An ancient Bifrost portal, just like the one in your academy. If Sisika placed her phoenix hatchling there... maybe she came from Svartalfheim. Or maybe she was hiding."

His brow furrowed.

"I’ll need to investigate that. But I didn’t know she was aware of you before she met you. That… is new to me."

The island faded, dissolving into air.

"She told me she dreamed of me," I said. "She mentioned my future. You told me someone with the Aspect of Time can’t use the Aspect of Space—but I saw her teleport."

Siegfried tilted his head, considering.

Then he gave a faint nod.

Now that I think about it… I’ve seen you use the Aspect of Time. And this very place… it feels like an ability tied to Space.

He folded his arms.

"Beings like her don’t follow the normal rules I told you. Her family is the strongest among the divine. They're what remains of the Aesir. They can have both Aspects—but one in its 'weaker' form. She specialized in teleportation, so her Space Aspect is dominant. Her Time Aspect exists... but it's limited. Occasionally, I’ve heard she receives visions in dreams. But those are involuntary."

I tried to wrap my head around it.

"And… who exactly is her family?"

"I already told you. She’s from the House of Odinson," he said. "During Ragnarok, most of that line died in battle. But three descendants of Odin survived—the sons of Tyr. Sisika’s mother is Odin’s granddaughter."

I tried to process it.

"She’s… a phoenix and a dragon?"

"She’s primarily an Aesir," Siegfried replied. "Which means she’s a dragon by nature. However, she can alter her primary form into that of a phoenix using the Aspect of Body. That ability also allows her to disguise herself as a moon panther cub. But her dragon form is always her true self—though its size may vary."

He leaned forward slightly.

"When she accessed more of her power—during the incident with you, your family, and Nikolaus Wolves—she accidentally released a portion of her divine energy. That caused her to grow far beyond what a hatchling normally could. As for her paternal side… like I told you before, her father was a Vanir who could transform into a phoenix. He died during Ragnarok."

I frowned.

"Then why did she grow up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere?"

Siegfried exhaled, a shadow crossing his features. He sat in a conjured chair that hadn’t been there a second ago.

"That story... brings immense sorrow to my master. If you ever meet him—never mention it in his presence. Do you understand? Never speak of his sister. The Aesir princess is sacred. If a mortal dares to utter her name casually, they will be severely punished. I’m only telling you this because of your bond with Sisika."

Behind me, a chair appeared.

A silent invitation.

I sat, feeling the gravity of what was coming.

"This happened before Ragnarok," he said. "Princess Mikhaila was Odin’s youngest granddaughter—the youngest child of Tyr. She was radiant, kind… the crown jewel of the Odinson bloodline. Everyone adored her. Everyone protected her."

Siegfried’s voice softened, almost reverent.

"Even as a child, she showed incredible talent with the Aspect of Space. Maybe the most gifted user to ever exist. When she chose to hide… no one could find her. When she fled… no one could catch her."

He paused, letting the memory settle.

"One day, during one of her escapes, she ended up in Vanaheim… and fell in love with a Vanir. At the time, the races hadn’t mixed for thousands of years. A union between them was unthinkable."

He looked at me, his expression unreadable.

"She kept visiting him over the years as they grew. He wasn’t a noble—just an ordinary Vanir. What you would call… a commoner."

Then, he continued.

"The princess grew into one of the most beautiful young women in all the Nine Realms. Suitors lined up—dozens of divine beings asking for her hand. But she turned them all away. Mikhaila was in love. And when a divine being falls in love… there’s no undoing it. It’s like with the High Elves. Our love is eternal. Unshakable."

He turned to look at the fireplace now blazing on the wall behind him. Within the flames, images began to flicker—scenes of battles, of ancient gods and wars lost to time.

"Back then, war was looming. The realms were closing off from one another. Even she would no longer be able to travel to Vanaheim freely. So… one last time, she went to see the man she loved."

His voice dipped, heavy with the weight of what came next.

"He was going to war. And she knew it. They considered running away. They dreamed about it. But they both understood… peace would never find them. He didn’t want to dishonor her family—or risk more death if anyone believed a Vanir had kidnapped an Aesir princess."

He stared into the fire.

"The young man knew he was going to die in the war. He wasn’t a noble. He wasn’t gifted. He was destined for the front lines. Before leaving her… he entrusted her with half of his divinity. It’s a process the gods use—when they choose to create life."

I swallowed.

"And what happened to him?"

Siegfried didn’t look away from the flames.

"He died. And the princess fell into a deep, silent grief."

His voice grew quieter.

"Gods don’t deal well with death. We weren't made to handle loss. After that… the Odinson family suffered even greater tragedy. Her father, her grandfather… gone. Odin and Tyr both perished—along with countless others from the family line."

He paused, the fire reflecting in his eyes like ancient memories.

"Only three heirs remained to rebuild Asgard… and the world around it. Together, alongside other divine survivors, they began to restore the realm. Slowly, Asgard smiled again. The war among the gods ended. And for the first time in eons, Vanir and Jotun walked Asgard as kin. Peace was finally achieved. The worlds were united."

There was a silence between us.

"And Sisika’s mother?" I asked.

"She never truly recovered from the loss. But she still carried half the divinity of the one she loved… and in that time of peace, she made a choice."

He looked at me, eyes sharp and steady.

"Do you know what it was?"

"...She offered her half—to have a child?" I guessed.

Siegfried nodded slowly.

"Exactly. But it came with a heavy price."

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