Chapter 902: Frey Is No Longer a God
Vergil and Freya reached the area where Alvitr had taken Frey only a few minutes later.
It was not exactly an ordinary infirmary, but one of the open rooms intended for the Valkyries who were still adapting to Sparda, surrounded by low pillars and large windows overlooking the Demonic Forest.
When they crossed the entrance, however, Freya immediately slowed down.
The smell of burned herbs, magical ink, and runic energy filled the room, while thin blue lines ran across the floor, forming concentric circles around her unconscious brother.
Frey was lying face down on a low platform, his torso completely exposed.
His condition looked even worse under the clear lighting of that place.
His ribs pressed against the skin, his shoulders had been reduced to sharp bones, and every vertebra could be seen without difficulty.
Across his back, however, Alvitr had done something that made it impossible to focus only on the malnutrition.
Bluish ink covered dozens of old marks, connecting scars, cracks in the skin, and tiny almost invisible traces into one enormous runic structure.
𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶
Some symbols glowed softly, while others seemed to absorb the light around them.
Alvitr was kneeling beside the platform, preparing small stone containers filled with magical pigments.
When she noticed them approaching, she raised her face and immediately recognized Freya.
The Valkyrie stood and bowed deeply.
"It is good to see that the Queen is still well."
Freya stopped.
For a few seconds, the title seemed to strike some old part of her that had not been completely left behind.
Even so, she approached Alvitr and placed a hand on the Valkyrie’s shoulder.
"Raise your head."
Alvitr obeyed.
Freya smiled, although there was a certain sadness in her expression.
"I am not queen of anything, Alvitr. Not anymore."
She briefly looked at her own hands, where demonic energy was now as much a part of her existence as the last remnants of divinity she still carried.
"I am only a demoness living in Sparda. As subordinate to Vergil as you are."
Alvitr frowned slightly.
"Do not say that."
Freya raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"Because we were always loyal to you."
The former goddess fell silent.
Alvitr continued, and this time her voice carried something far more personal than simple formal respect.
"You understood what it meant to be a Valkyrie. Not only the glory Asgard showed to other realms, but everything that came after. The orders we could not refuse, the missions without choice, the centuries without rest, and the absurd idea that our existence belonged to the throne."
Her blue eyes remained gentle but firm.
"You were one of the only people in Asgard who truly argued for our rights."
Freya made a small grimace.
"That is the bare minimum."
Alvitr laughed.
"To you."
Freya looked at her.
"Odin did not think so."
The former goddess’s expression changed for a moment.
Not exactly surprise, because she knew it was true.
Perhaps only discomfort at realizing that actions she had always considered minimal had meant so much to those women.
Vergil, however, decided to interrupt before the conversation turned the room into an emotional Valkyrie reunion.
"What are you doing to Frey?"
Alvitr immediately returned to work.
"A runic purification ritual."
She knelt again and dipped two fingers into one of the containers, taking a small amount of blue ink.
Then she carefully completed a symbol near the base of Frey’s neck.
"I cannot simply destroy the runes I found. Some are connected to others in such a way that one serves as a lock for the next. So I am building a structure over them."
She pointed to the enormous blue pattern spread across the man’s back.
"This layer will recognize any malicious rune, isolate its function, and attempt to neutralize it without affecting the soul or nervous system."
Vergil observed more carefully.
"How long?"
"A few hours for the first cycle. Perhaps more than one ritual if the structure is deeply connected to the soul."
Freya had already approached Frey.
Her eyes moved over her brother’s body with a growing mixture of sadness and anger.
"How did he end up like this?"
Alvitr stopped.
Freya gently ran her fingers through Frey’s dirty hair.
"He looks like he has not eaten in thousands of years."
Her voice became low.
"Even for gods, that would be absurd. We can survive enormous periods without conventional food, but reaching this state..."
Alvitr did not answer immediately.
That caught Vergil’s attention.
"You discovered something."
The Valkyrie slowly exhaled.
"Yes."
Freya raised her eyes.
"What?"
Alvitr looked directly at her.
"Frey is no longer a god."
Silence.
Freya blinked.
She seemed not to have understood.
"What?"
Alvitr repeated herself, now more carefully.
"I cannot find functional divinity inside him."
Freya went completely still.
Vergil narrowed his eyes.
"Explain."
Alvitr placed one hand a few centimeters above Frey’s back, and a small circular rune formed over her palm.
"Gods possess specific structures. Divine core, authority, divine energy, conceptual connection... the names vary depending on the pantheon, but there is always something that distinguishes them from beings who are simply powerful."
The glowing circle slowly traveled along Frey’s body.
"In him, almost all of that is gone."
Freya opened her mouth.
No words came out.
Alvitr continued:
"I do not know whether it was destroyed or suppressed to such an extreme degree that it became undetectable. But inside this body there is no significant amount of divine energy. His organism is surviving almost entirely through residual life force and some structure that still refuses to allow him to die."
Freya brought a hand to her mouth.
"No..."
"That also explains his appearance," Alvitr said. "Without divine support, his body began suffering limitations much closer to those of a mortal. Hunger, muscle loss, cellular deterioration, aging. Perhaps the Inverted World accelerated all of it."
Freya stared at her brother.
"What could do that?"
The question was not exactly directed at anyone.
Vergil remained silent.
Alvitr had no answer.
But a new presence appeared behind them.
First came a small distortion in the air.
Then black-and-blue energy escaped from Vergil’s body, condensing until it formed Niddrog’s feminine silhouette.
The dragon appeared on the floor with her arms crossed, long bluish hair falling down her back while she observed Frey with the same curiosity she would dedicate to some strange creature found among the roots.
Freya immediately turned.
"Who is she?"
Vergil looked at Niddrog.
Then at Freya.
He shrugged.
"The dragon that eats the roots of the World Tree."
Freya went pale.
She literally lost all color from her face.
Her finger slowly began pointing toward Niddrog.
"T-T-That girl..."
Niddrog looked sideways.
Freya finished, almost choking:
"That girl is Nidhogg?!"
"It is Niddrog," Vergil corrected.
Freya did not seem to hear him.
Niddrog showed no interest in the former goddess either.
She walked over to Frey, leaned slightly closer, and brought her face near his body, discreetly smelling him.
Then she spoke with complete naturalness:
"The body is dying."
Freya froze.
Niddrog touched Frey’s dried shoulder with one finger.
"It is too damaged."
Freya started breathing faster.
Niddrog continued, completely unaware of the effect of her own words.
"There is no reason to save this thing."
"WHAT?!"
Freya practically lunged toward her.
Vergil caught the former goddess by the arm before an extremely poor emotional decision could be made.
"Calm down."
"SHE JUST SAID THERE IS NO REASON TO SAVE MY BROTHER!"
Niddrog tilted her head.
"But it is true."
Before Freya could explode, two new manifestations emerged directly from Vergil’s body.
Crymsaria appeared on the left.
Nivara on the right.
Both looked at Niddrog.
Then at Freya.
Then at each other.
There was no discussion.
Crymsaria grabbed Niddrog by one arm.
Nivara grabbed the other.
"Shut up, you stupid dragon."
Niddrog’s eyes widened.
"Hey!"
"You do not say that to his sister," Crymsaria complained, already pulling her away.
"I only told the truth!"
"There is something called tact," Nivara said.
"What is tact?"
Crymsaria stopped for a second.
She looked at Nivara.
"She really does not know."
"I noticed."
Niddrog began resisting.
"LET GO OF ME!"
The two simply dragged her back toward Vergil.
"I can walk!"
"You are not going to walk," Nivara replied.
"I am staying here!"
"No, you are not."
"I AM STRONGER THAN BOTH OF YOU!"
Crymsaria smiled.
"Then try to get away."
The argument disappeared together with all three of them as their bodies turned into energy and were pulled back into Vergil’s inner world.
For several more seconds, the commotion occurring inside his soul could still be felt.
Vergil closed his eyes.
A muffled roar echoed mentally.
Then Crymsaria cursing.
Nivara telling both of them to stop.
Niddrog complaining that she had done nothing wrong.
Vergil took a deep breath.
"I need to build separate rooms in there."
Freya still looked on the verge of collapsing.
Vergil noticed.
The humor immediately disappeared from his expression.
He approached her and carefully held her shoulders.
"Freya."
She looked at him.
"She said Frey is dying."
"She also thought it was perfectly normal to explain that by saying he was not worth saving."
"But—"
"Listen."
Vergil waited until she was actually focused on him.
"If I thought there was nothing we could do, I would not have brought him back."
Freya remained silent.
"Qliphoth confirmed that his mind is intact. Alvitr found the runes. Now we know the loss of divinity may explain his physical condition."
He gently tightened his grip on her shoulders.
"Those are answers. Not a sentence."
Alvitr nodded.
"He is still alive, Lady Freya."
Freya looked at her.
The Valkyrie added:
"And while he is alive, we have something to work with."
Vergil slowly released Freya’s shoulders and pointed toward Frey.
"We are going to help your brother."
She took a deep breath.
Once.
Twice.
Until she finally managed to control the trembling in her hands.
Vergil took one of them.
"Calm down."
Freya nodded, approaching the platform again.
This time, when she looked at her brother’s ruined body, the fear was still there.
But there was something else too.
Hope.
And for Vergil, that was already enough to begin.