374

Underworld

At night, Forseti sat beside the Thunder Tree, silent.

Hela's sudden departure caught him off guard. A few days ago, everything was calm, but he didn't expect it to escalate so quickly.

According to Odin, things didn't seem very serious. Hela hadn't turned against Asgard as in the original story but had simply run away from home after a big quarrel.

However, the problem now was that Forseti couldn't judge whether the news was true or not.

Maybe, as Odin had told him, Hela really had just run away from home without a serious conflict with Asgard. But perhaps this was just Odin's version of events, and the truth was that Hela had been sealed away somewhere by him.

Forseti had no way of knowing the truth. After all, he wasn't in Asgard when the incident happened, and very few people knew the real story.

Apart from Odin, the only person who might know the truth was Heimdall, who possessed the all-seeing eye.

Forseti pondered for a long time.

In the original tale, Hela had been sealed in the underworld by Odin. Maybe he could start there to uncover the truth.

With this in mind, Forseti got up and headed for the Rainbow Bridge.

Teleportation Hall.

"Heimdall, take me to the underworld," Forseti said, fixing his gaze on Heimdall's eyes.

However, Hermond showed no sign of surprise and casually asked, "What are you doing in the underworld? It's not a safe place, and even for you, there's a certain danger."

"Testing my new weapon," Forseti replied, drawing the Demon Slayer Sword.

The underworld was filled with many souls and evil spirits, all of whom were subdued by the Demon Slayer Sword, which made sense.

Heimdall didn't press further, simply nodded, and activated the Rainbow Bridge, teleporting Forseti away.

The rainbow-hued beam of light flashed, and Forseti found himself in a misty scene, nearly invisible.

Frowning, Forseti concluded from his recent interaction that Heimdall hadn't shown any signs of deception or attempted to stop him from entering the underworld.

Could it be that Hela had indeed just run away from home, as Odin claimed?

The uncertainty gnawed at Forseti.

What troubled him even more was that even if Odin had lied and sealed Hela away, Forseti couldn't do anything about it with his current strength.

A jumble of thoughts raced through his mind, leaving Forseti feeling numb.

Lost in his thoughts, his breathing quickened, and his eyes darted around.

Suddenly, a faint voice pierced the silence. "Are you searching for me, my dear?"

"Your Highness?" Forseti gasped, looking up to see a familiar, ethereal figure not far away, with long flowing hair—it was Hela.

"I can sense your thoughts," Hela murmured with a seductive wink as she slowly approached Forseti, her voice hauntingly ethereal.

At her voice, Forseti felt a strange intoxication wash over him and blurted out, "Your Highness... Did Odin imprison you here?"

Hela remained silent, smiling serenely and continuing to approach Forseti with graceful steps.

But then her gaze fixed on Forseti's right hand resting on the Demon Slayer Sword.

Specifically, on the blade with its pristine white edge.

Hela's expression darkened suddenly, fear flickering in her eyes as she swiftly stepped back.

Simultaneously, Forseti shuddered, as if awakened from a trance, the haziness clearing from his eyes in an instant.

Glancing down, he saw the Holy Seal at his waist shimmering with golden light, its pointer directing straight at the figure of "Hela" before him.

Looking up again, there was no longer Hela—only a spectral form in the mist, a distinctly male apparition.

Damn it...

Forseti's face paled, and then the golden light surged in his hand, the Holy Seal of the Demon Slayer Sword emanating its radiant brilliance.

Startled, the ghost recoiled in terror and hastily fled.

Judgment Sword!

Forseti's right hand trembled violently as the Judgment Sword shot forth from the Demon Slayer Sword, swiftly catching up with the fleeing ghost.

"Boom!"

Holy light exploded forth, and the ghost dissipated into nothingness within the brilliance of divine punishment, vanishing completely.

At the same time, the intense radiance enabled Forseti to clearly discern his surroundings—a multitude of ghosts had gathered around him, layer upon layer, seemingly out of nowhere, observing him with an almost panda-like curiosity.

The moment the holy light shone, these specters trembled in fear and hastily dispersed.

For a time, echoes of ghostly wails filled Forseti's ears.

With a cold snort, Forseti ascended, wielding the Demon Slayer Sword to eradicate every specter, dispersing them wherever the Holy Light reached.

After some time, when not a single ghost remained, he lowered himself to the ground, holding the sword in silence for a long while.

Finally, he shook his head. "Heimdall?"

"Returning so soon?"

"Yes."

The Rainbow Bridge descended from the heavens, transporting Forseti back to the Teleportation Hall in Asgard.

"Pardon me, Heimdall," Forseti said, turning to depart.

"Wait, Forseti." Heimdall halted him. "I apologize—I've just realized something about the underworld. But I must ask, why do you suspect that His Majesty sealed Princess Hela in the underworld?"

For a moment, Forseti remained silent, finally stating, "I clearly wasn't in my right mind at the time... You're right, the underworld is indeed perilous."

Heimdall regarded him solemnly. "Perhaps you don't fully trust me, but I assure you, His Majesty did not harm or imprison Princess Hela. I find it inconceivable that any father would treat his child in such a manner."

Forseti offered no reply, politely smiling before departing the Teleportation Hall.

The following morning, he ventured to the moon.

The pyramid he had constructed here, fashioned from solar metal over a millennium ago, remained unchanged, gleaming beneath the sunlight, its aura as resplendent and solemn as the holy light.

Hela's ordeal left Forseti deeply troubled, recognizing that regardless of the truth, he couldn't deny his own inadequacy.

If he were stronger—stronger even than Odin—yesterday's uncertainties and trials would not have arisen.

Determined, Forseti resolved to enhance his power in the days ahead, adopting a nearly ascetic pursuit, oblivious to external distractions.

Turning to gaze upon the boundless sun blazing in the distant sky, Forseti strode unwaveringly into the pyramid.

...

For adult Asgardians, a few years passed in the blink of an eye—time fleeting, unremarkable in the absence of significant events.

Yet, for young Asgardians, these years constituted a substantial span.

Sufficient time to transform a newborn into a child, mastering the art of walking, speaking, and possibly even honing magical or martial prowess.

"Go, Thor, finish him off!" clamored a cluster of children, gathered boisterously.

Among them, two boys engaged in spirited combat, grappling in what appeared as wrestling—a display both juvenile and comical.

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