Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!-Chapter 580: Clutching The Pearls Too Tight

Helga Andre Valkaria, the herald of war in the absence of a goddess of war. She held the goddess’s spear–Gungnir and carried with her the scars of those she cherished and had fought for thus far. However, far from a saint, she was known as a menace that devastated the nations held by the rivals of her master. She slaughtered young, old, and the unborn. She raped the women and men alike in front of their families. She pillaged like a savage and drove armies like a maddened warlord.

Once done with one piece of land, she would move the banner further and with Markus handling the charge, she would handle everything else that was either already crippled or had survived the assault of the vanguards. Even stripped of clothes, she could tear the hearts of their enemies while they were alive. Her limbs, her teeth, and even her long hair–everything about her had already murdered someone in cold blood.

But now, as she lays in slumber; her two daughters by her side caring for her, she pondered whether a monster like her could ever be forgiven–not by the greedy gods, but by the victims of her crimes that had been gone for a thousand years. If not? Then how could she be allowed to relish the comfort of a family? Why wouldn’t someone else do to her daughters what she’d done to countless others?

’I won’t beg for forgiveness.’ Even when weighted by her guilt, she stood her ground in front of the souls who’d arrived to judge her in her dream. Contained within the stand of a witness with a dead goddess’s spirit holding up a scale, she cast her gaze up at the brilliant figure and said.

"What I did was unforgivable, there’s no reason for me to beg," looking around with a deep breath, she saw amongst the crowd countless faces that she recognized. Some she’d slaughtered, others she had tortured, and there were also those present whose souls she’d forcefully sold for the devil’s blood potions. "Cast me in hell and I’ll suffer the agony as my penance."

The crowd scowled at her stubbornness. They’d expected her to cave and beg for forgiveness. Instead, she wanted to be held responsible and suffer an agonizing eternity in hell. But as the goddess’s scale jingled in their ears, they turned towards the brilliant figure who was glaring at the Valkyrie.

"I’d heard plenty of tales of her stubbornness, but to think you would abandon your daughter and suffer in hell rather than beg for forgiveness." The elder goddess’s tone was neither mocking nor resentful, as she was merely the judge acting in accord with the dead heaven’s laws.

"Markus will take care of them, they deserve better than a monster like me." Closing her eyes, Helga could feel her daughters hurdled in her arms while her body was still unconscious. Smiling at the sensation, she opened her eyes and looked up. "Not to mention, they have great company with them. The hero, his companions, the goddess of life and death as well as the goddess of the stars Elenaria. In comparison, I’m just an old woman who is deceptively young except for some back pain."

Chuckling to herself, Helga was ready to let go of the strings of life. She’d lived enough, too much in fact and the weight of existence was crushing her every day.

"After telling your friend that you wouldn’t kill him, you now wish to die and do him disservice?" A rush of cold blood ran through Helga’s body, the goddess’s words had cut her bone deep. Having forgotten about Markus’s wish to die and her refusal to do so, she was fully willing to let go of herself, but would that be fair? Fair to her only living friend? "You care for the crimes you committed against these people, but not enough to give them the satisfaction of begging for forgiveness. But a mention of your friend and all of a sudden, that thick layer–that facade of strength fades, well, isn’t that curious?"

The goddess’ cackle filled the dark courtroom. She hadn’t expected the mention of Markus’s wish would have such an effect on the Valkyrie. The bystanders felt the same and were now even more insulted that she would care more for a friend’s wish than the horrific crimes she had committed against them. All around, it was a perplexing situation, but the goddess’ next words made it even worse.

"You shall now return to your body, for even if I wished to punish you, your soul won’t leave your body unless you die in a war." Aphrodite’s blessing, even in a dream, wouldn’t leave Helga alone. Markus was the same, but for him, it was Murdok who had trapped him in that ethereal shell.

Servants of the same gods, they were eternally trapped and with nobody to match their strength, the only way for them to die…

"See you again, in the coming holy, Valkyrie…" The goddess cackled and the next thing Helga knew, her arms grew heavy from bearing the weight of her daughters sleeping on them overnight.

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Opening her eyes, she looked at the two; each having grown cuter than when she saw them last time–or at least that’s how it felt to the mother of the twins. Kissing them on their foreheads, she laid her head to rest again, but not with a sigh of relief and the words…

"Ahhh~ Fucking kill me, I forgot I was a mom to two rowdy twins," laughing to herself, she squeezed the duo closer to her body. "If only your grandmother was here, she would teach you girls a lesson, ahahaha~"

With the thought of her own dead mother lingering in her head a while longer, Helga returned to sleep, but this time there was no sight of a dead god nor the audience of her dead victims. Just her and her thoughts, swimming through a lucid dream. A dream about life from long ago–a memory so distant it felt like she’d made it up in her mind.

But being cradled in a cloth while her mother fought numerous soldiers with a single hand, it was very real, and it reminded her just why she carried the last name of a Valkyrie. Helga Andre Valkaria–a monster to her enemies, a Valkyrie to a god, but most importantly, the daughter of a fierce woman and the mother of her dragon twins.

’Don’t clutch your pearls too tight, Helga. You’ll break them instead of sheltering them~’ The voice of her mother rang in her ears, telling her to stop treating her daughters as dolls made of porcelain. But whether she takes that advice to heart, that remains to be seen.