Athena's General - Chapter 331

Katherine Evenhart

I was in Nathan’s room, reading some stories aloud to Cylla as she slept. I also shared funny little memories, recalling moments I’d witnessed while watching the two of them grow up. From what Nathan had told me, Cylla was in the limbo stage of mana exhaustion. I knew how frightening that was. It had only happened to me twice in my life. When it does, a mage collapses into a deep sleep, their mind slipping into a state that’s almost like a coma. It takes days to recover from it, and even then, it’s terrifying.

When Nathan went through it, he slept for an entire week. I never left his side. I stayed beside him, talking the whole time, hoping my voice would reach him and bring comfort in the darkness of that state.

“They’re out there having those meetings...” I said to her softly. “Life could’ve been simpler, but it feels like we were born in the wrong era. I don’t know if I should be happy that Nathan has the safety that comes with being a noble… or sad that it means he gets dragged into things like this.”

I shifted on the bed and gently placed my hand on her, stroking her softly.

“I know that boy is lying to me. He’s downplaying what really happened… and hiding things about you, about the two of you. But thank you… for being there with my son.”

I pulled the covers up around her, even knowing she couldn’t feel the cold.

“If even you, stronger than any of us, came back injured like this… then I’m sure Nathan wouldn’t have survived without you. Thank you for protecting my boy. There’s no price in this world that could repay what you did.”

***

I walked through the underground part of our home. The maids rarely came down here—only Martha ever entered freely. She was upstairs with her daughters, busy with dinner. Ever since martial law was declared in the city, I hadn’t left the house—not even to attend the small memorial they held for the students who died in that terrible incident.

Until the other traitors are identified, Apsalon will remain sealed off. A grave crime had been committed, and the punishment would be death.

Only high-ranking, veteran soldiers were allowed to fly the Asalon steeds now. The entire city was under strict surveillance. Some students had gone missing after returning to the surface, and searches were underway.

Outside, both our own house guard and elven soldiers were stationed. A representative from the elven royal family had come on the first day, asking us to relocate to the king’s estate for protection, but we chose to stay. After all, their mansion was only a few minutes’ walk from our own. It seemed pointless to move. The whole street was occupied by a protective military force.

I opened the door and stepped into my laboratory. The plants began to stir, reacting to my presence. I greeted them, petting a few as I walked through the greenhouse garden. Nearby, large mana crystals stood glowing faintly—this had been a personal project of Nathan’s. He wanted to try storing mana at its highest quality. I think he was also trying to find a way to use that mana to feed the plants, the same way I do. But only I seem able to channel mana directly into living flora.

“How are you today?” I asked, walking toward my little girl.

The enormous seed—roughly the size of a full-grown ox—had been quiet for the past few days.

“Are you awake?” I asked gently, approaching.

I reached down and dipped my hand into the small lake beside her, trying to sense the flow of elven mana in the water.

“I’ll ask your brother to generate more water… the lake’s losing its nutrients,” I said quietly.

I moved closer to her, and then—my heart dropped.

“Oh no…” I rushed forward and pressed my hand against the giant seed.

“What happened to you?” I whispered.

The surface of the seed… was cracked. Like shattered glass.

Nathan Evenhart

"Hello, Nathan Evenhart. We need to talk," said Siegfried, sitting calmly in the chair.

I froze in place, caught off guard. Before I could say anything, the door behind me closed on its own with a soft thud.

My eyes shifted from the man in the chair to where Cylla was resting.

"She’s fine," he said, as if reading my mind. "I haven’t done anything to her, and I don’t intend to. I could easily wipe out everyone in this city, but I would never harm Sisika."

He pointed to an empty chair nearby, which slid toward me silently across the floor.

"Sit down. We have a lot to talk about, bearer of Jormungandr."

I stayed standing, trying to read his intentions.

Siegfried let out a long sigh.

"You’re difficult. Don’t trust me, do you?"

"No," I replied bluntly.

He laughed.

"Good!" he said—but suddenly, he was beside me. I flinched. He’d teleported. The door to my room creaked open again, though what I saw beyond it wasn’t the corridor of the mansion.

"Come on," he said, already stepping through. "This conversation will take a while, and it’ll be better elsewhere."

I stared at the doorway. What I saw wasn’t the familiar hallway of my home. Something about the space beyond felt unnatural, tinged with a strange sensation I couldn’t describe. Still, I couldn’t back out now. That man had the answers I’d been searching for—about Sisika, the Nidhogg, about Freya, the woman who looked exactly like my mother. In a way, she was my mother… the founder of the bloodline that led to me and my real mother. I wanted to understand where Cylla came from. So many things had been haunting me lately.

"I don’t have all day…" he said, then chuckled. "Just kidding. I’ve got all the time in the world."

I took a breath and followed him through the doorway. The moment I stepped through, I felt a sudden chill. The air was thick with mana—almost overwhelming. Behind me, I heard a burst of flame. I turned just in time to see the door vanish, consumed entirely in crackling fire.

"What the…?" I gasped.

"Relax," Siegfried said. We were in that same museum I had seen during the dukes' event. But it had changed. Now it was much larger, filled with far more items than before.

"Impressed? I told you I’d show you my master’s collection. This is it… well, a small part of it."

"How is this even possible?" I asked.

"This is a pocket dimension, kid. A space stored inside someone’s soul. It’s similar to the one Sisika took you to when you were a child… I think? Time’s fuzzy. For me, you humans are all children—your oldest barely make it past the first few chapters of life compared to my age."

I paused, the weight of everything crashing into me.

"If you’re so powerful… then why did you let my teacher die? Why did you let Cylla get hurt?"

"I’m not omniscient, Nathan. The moment I sensed something had happened to Sisika, I came. She will always be my priority. And because you're her friend… you fall under my protection too, in a way."

"So in the end… my teacher died just because I couldn’t buy a few more minutes?" I said, laughing bitterly.

"Your teacher wasn’t the only one who died. Many students across other parts of that tower floor were killed in the incident. Not that I’m deeply saddened, or even care that much. I’m just stating facts. Just as I’m not omniscient… you’re not omnipresent."

I had replayed that day in my mind countless times, searching for an answer that never came. If I had acted differently... if I had just found a way to gain one more second… maybe she’d still be here. Maybe Professor Beatrix would have survived. But in the end, I didn’t do enough.

I didn’t know what to feel. All I could sense was an expanding emptiness inside me—a deep fear of knowing there are beings out there capable of hurting the people I love in such a merciless, cruel way. Just the thought that something so monstrous could happen right next to me... it eats away at me.

The past few years gave me a false sense of control, a belief that my strength could stand against anything, any threat. But the truth is, I’m weak. I’m useless. And that brutal lesson came at the highest possible price—watching Beatrix say goodbye right in front of me, and seeing Cylla so wounded, so close to losing everything. I couldn’t do anything. I could only watch as their lives slipped through my fingers, as if the only thing I was good at was being powerless. Once again, I felt the crushing weight of how a single second could mean the difference between keeping someone close and losing them forever.

"And Cylla... I need to know she’ll be okay. I need to know there won’t be any lasting damage. I want to understand the sword that hurt her. Tell me more about this Death Aspect."

"Sisika," he corrected me. "Sisika will be fine, as I told you. If there were even the slightest chance of her staying hurt, I would’ve taken her with me already. She just needs rest. She’s not fragile like you. Her soul will heal. For us, soul and mana are one and the same. As for the Death Aspect… all in due time. First, I need you to see this."

Siegfried stopped in front of a wall filled with paintings and gestured for me to join him. I walked over to his side.

"This place created a replica of the real one. The true collection is in Asgard—where my master lives."

"Asgard?" I echoed.

He pointed to one of the paintings. It showed a massive castle with a rainbow arcing over it.

"That’s a famous painting of Asgard. I’ll explain more about it later."

"I want to know what you are. I want to know about Sisika… everything I can," I said firmly.

Siegfried scratched the back of his head.

"You’re in a hurry, aren’t you?"

I needed to know as much as I could. The enemy had always felt like something distant, unreachable. But not anymore. Seeing those things up close, knowing there had been three of them in the tower... it rattled me. One of them, a woman named Sindra, tortured students right in front of everyone. The thought that something like that could have happened to Chloe or Kinue is one of the many things that’s been robbing me of sleep.

"I came to give you answers. Bringing you here was my first answer," he said. "You’re in trouble, Nathan. You and the rest of your kind. Those demons… they’ve already begun to seep into your world. At least, fragments of their presence. Our long war with them has been raging for thousands of years. And now… they’ve found ways to stir things up by using weaker beings."

"What do you mean by ‘weaker beings’?" I asked.

"What do you think we are?" he replied.

I stared at him for a moment, then finally said the words I never thought I’d ever speak to another being in this life.

"Gods."

"Correct. And yet, not quite," he replied. "I am an Asgardian. A divinity. There’s a difference, boy. The term ‘God’ is tightly bound to religious context. In Asgard, I’d never call myself a god. That title is sacred—meant for those whose very existence sustains something greater, something fundamental. Yes, I’m a divinity. Someone of great power and importance. But I’d never dare claim that title for myself."

"Wait… Cylla… is she a divinity too?"
I had my suspicions, but I needed to hear it confirmed.

"Yes and no," Siegfried replied. "Is she a divinity? Yes. But more than that... she’s a god."

"What? What do you mean?"

"It’s simple. She belongs to a sacred bloodline among the divine. In the realm I come from, her family is worshipped even by other divinities. Do you understand what that implies? That’s why she’s referred to as a god."

I tried to process what he was saying, but I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the idea of gods worshipping other gods.

He looked me straight in the eye.

"Let me put it in human terms to make it easier. In my world, it’s as if regular divinities are commoners, and Sisika’s family is royalty. That’s the level she comes from. She’s the elite among the divine."

Siegfried tossed something at me. I caught it midair. It was a coin made of some strange, shimmering golden metal. When I turned it over, I noticed the image of a dragon engraved into it.

"Is this… money?"

"That’s the currency of my world," he said. "Don’t judge us—we have a society too. Our world functions like yours, just... far better. We have people who work, we have our own nobility, and yes, even currency. It’s a form of entertainment for immortals. Think of it as any normal society—only vastly superior to yours. Comparing the world I come from to yours would be… unfair."

A world of divinities?

"Sisika—whom you call Cylla—is the niece and adopted daughter of my master. The dragon on that coin? That’s him. Sisika is the daughter of his sister and was raised as his own. She is our princess. To be precise, she’s the princess of the entire divine realm, above all others."

Cylla… is a princess? A princess from a world of gods?

"That doesn’t make sense. Sisika once showed me where she grew up… a broken-down wooden cabin in the middle of nowhere. She lived alone, in poverty. That’s not exactly what you’d expect from divine royalty."

Siegfried snapped his fingers, and the coin vanished from my hand in a flash of light.

"That’s a long story, boy. One that you’ll need to listen to carefully. Understanding Sisika’s past is the final step in what I’ve come to teach you. I was sent by my master to watch over both you and her, and to warn you about the dangers coming for your world—especially because of the eyes you carry… the Celestial Eyes."

He stepped closer.

"By the way, you’ve overused them. Your body isn’t compatible with that power, and now your eyes are damaged. You won’t be able to use them for a while."

Instinctively, I touched my face. The constant ache… so that’s what it had been all along.

"But before we go any further, I need to offer you a choice," he said. "Do you want to know just the story of Lady Sisika? Or do you want the whole truth?"

"I want to know everything," I replied without hesitation.

He snapped his fingers again. All around us, the artifacts and displays in the museum began to shift and rearrange themselves as the room transformed entirely.

"Very well, Nathan Evenhart. Then let us talk about Asgard… and the gods."

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